My Muse

I cite the times I pined for you,

yet often they were manifold.

 

Through tides deep lost, I ached for flair,
yet never had I told.

 

The keepers of the peach desire,
feigned well-rehearsed that made me stray.

 

Yet catchier wings of subtle wind,
have kissed my eyes and showed my way.

 

I sense your brush as dawning peaks,
atop the fiery spire.

 

With firmness borne to kiss my dream...
I set my ink on fire!