The MuseEyes like the fleeting glimpse of the sun
Caught in a piece of broken mirror,
Never really revealed in the words,
In images, in little gestures.
Frail and persistent, a heart of swan,
Two tender wings of glacial whiteness
In the lake of peaceful vanity,
Ripples of emotion down below.
What lies behind the shyness of lines
Will still be unreachable and yet
So beautiful, etherieal thought
Of the muse of secret poetry. |