Poet’s Muse

A fantast heart, a treasured soul, a karmic ache, a fervent
Toll. And orchard walks, a printed voice, a fennel flame, a
Woman’s choice. My trenchant love, the myth of years, a
Mirror faint, the pain of fears. And nectar sweet, a sour storm,
A furnace sore, a vineyard warm. But spellic love, a wellic
Charm, a maze of dreams, a heart’s alarm. My fantast dove,
A sylvan cave, a rapture burn, a gesture flame. And floret
Wave, a ripple soft, a soul to pant, a bleeding cost. Indeed
The love, a mental fuse, the vim of death, a poet’s blues.
And tear to mind, a passion keen, a specter light, a cultic
Scream. My trenchant love, a forest ghost, a tinge of life, a
Poet’s pulse. And flit to fly, the flare of pain, a dolor star,
A lavish flame. Indeed the love, a pensive ache, a passion
Pride, a touch of fate.