Sonnet Redouble to my Reluctant Muse


Arms ache with longing to my muse enfold,
But Heaven remains beyond reach of heart:
How can I to reluctant muse impart
All that she gives? Words alone do not tell
What in her eyes and smile become the spell
To fill my mind with verse. She brings a light
To shadowed dream, to make my work seem right,
That I might hope I have my passions told.
How will I repay muse who is the source
Of vision, and of dream? I cannot give,
In all my verses, words enough to show
How much she means to me: Heart holds to course
At her guidance. I must let longings live,
For all I know she does not wish it so.

For all I know she does not wish it so,
I will acknowledge debt I owe my muse.
Without her light as guide, dream would refuse
To show me what to write, and how to share
Thought of my heart’s desire: That I might care
As much as muse allows. She holds the key
To inspiration in her smile to me:
How can I keep from letting longings grow?
She gives me reason to heart’s feelings write,
In dream of her warm eyes, and sight of smile
So sweet, to encourage my passions’ flow.
I long to hold muse always in my sight,
But know to not unasked of hopes make trial:
How can I let her my heart’s desires know?

How can I let her my heart’s desires know
When I cannot my muse’s dream recall?
Should she inform my heart, that would be all
I need: I would then try to dream fulfil,
If I might, and have cause to think she will
Accept my offering of heart’s caring.
Not knowing dream, I’ll but send words bearing
My hope to see more of her eyes’ bright glow.
If I might future find in dreams inspired
By thought of muse, would I then know the way
For verse to take to win to goal, or lose
All that I seek offending muse? So mired
In questions, I dare not heart’s desires say
Without giving cause that she would refuse.

Without giving cause that she would refuse
I try to tell muse how I value smile,
But do not know the words I may write: While
I dare not say too much, it would be sin
To say too little. In sight I begin
To find my inspiration. Can I send
Enough to tell, but not sweet muse offend?
Would I win attention if words amuse?
I long to find perfect word, to describe
The curve of muse’s lips, that smiles create.
Yet, I am satisfied to recall views
And dream I might of heaven’s kiss imbibe.
Should I my own heart’s desire now relate,
To share her smile, or let dream of her choose?

To share her smile, or let dream of her choose
The future path of all endeavors seems
To be all I might dare: I have no schemes
That will win more than asked. Must I recall
Unfounded dream, when I know dream is all
That I might hold at night? Should I dream let
Control imagination, sleep upset,
And from verse hide all of my muse’s views?
In muse I seek to focus of art find,
That I might hold to a fixed path that ties
Dreams and desires into verse that defines
My soul. Apart from muse, I remain blind:
Without her smile, and the light from her eyes,
What can inspire all of my future lines?

What can inspire all of my future lines
When I so rarely at my muse may look,
To see her eyes and smile? Yet, in what book
Have I found promise that my dreams will be?
I’ve only faith and hope muse might agree
To guide my words, and lend heart’s passions voice.
I dare not falter: I have only choice
To pray muse gives power that verse refines.
In muse I find reason to care: The gem
Of bright eyes that let light into my soul.
Yet, should I look in my dreams for the signs
Of hope? Does not seeing my muse condemn
Heart to darkness, and verse from reaching goal?
Must I abandon hope that her light shines?

Must I abandon hope that her light shines
Upon the dreams that give me verse? I fear
The darkness absence brings: How might I steer
A path to muse’s presence? Dare I ask
To spend time with my muse, or is that task
I cannot on her place? Must heart defend
The need for conversation? I intend
Only to learn what hopes now muse defines.
Without some dream of muse, heart is as blind,
Not seeing soul, and falling to despair.
Should I have concern caring is too bold,
That I must longings keep only in mind?
Might I ask for my muse to sweet smile share,
To give reason to any verses mold?

To give reason to any verses mold
Requires a muse. To form more than just dream,
There must be light from higher realm, a beam
To fill the mind. So few provide the spark
That fires the soul and lifts heart from the dark:
Might I hold to this one, now found, to keep
The inspiration? Would she have me weep,
That passion’s heat condemns heart to be cold?
I wait, hoping to spend a future hour
With one who causes verse. I must head bow
In silent prayer that heart might fears retire.
Can I hope that muse will let my dreams flower
To vision of her smile, or tell me how
Am I to hold as hidden heart’s desire?

Am I to hold as hidden heart’s desire
To muse repay for gift? Can I not thank
The one who fills my verse? Mind would be blank
Without sight of her eyes: Her smiles restore
Heart’s dream to life. Should I not beg, implore,
And plead, for all that muse might share? I prize
Seeing my muse: Perhaps it is not wise,
But I care for one who holds heart entire.
Yet, should I write of longings, when I know
I do not hold my muse’s heart? I try
To dream of only smile, but heart might sin
When muse is beautiful. When verses flow,
I can but hope I might on words rely,
That I might offer cause for smile, or grin.

That I might offer cause for smile, or grin,
To give me muse’s grace, would be my wish.
I must hope I can with verse accomplish
Intent: To dream of muse hold on the page,
And keep a part of muse as mine. My stage
Is fourteen lines, and muse provides the wing
To lift words from paper, letting verse sing.
I fear I must all of hopes on muse pin.
How can I know what words muse will allow,
Until words I share? Can I hold dream, while
Reaching to muse? Dare I let desires toy
With what muse provides me? Do I break vow
To not of muse ask? Only with her smile
Can I know what to write, to lines employ.

Can I know what to write, to lines employ
In reaching muse? Dare I reveal that part
Of soul is bound? Desires may my dreams start,
But it is smile that offers verses life.
How am I to find peace, out of this strife,
Without my muse’s blessing? Will she share
The light of eyes, bringing glow to her hair?
Can I see heaven and not lust destroy?
It seems muse has from heaven brought a charm
And beauty to guide mortal fools who’ve earned
The pleasure of her smile. Might she inspire
Enough to make verse worthy? Does hope harm
The chance of smile? Can heart remain unburned
In seeking to in muse’s eyes see fire?

In seeking to in muse’s eyes see fire,
To light dreams and warm heart, I find I fall
Into my own desires: I dare not call
My longings more than hope. She has made clear
I should not think that I might hold her near.
Yet, can I less than care? She is the one
I will call muse: Would I gratitude shun,
To not give thanks she does not of verse tire?
In muse I see one who shares Heaven’s light
And I will pray, to have the chance to get
Such sacred blessings: I would my hopes spin
This verse to fabric of a worth, that might
Repay my muse for her gift, in soul set
To forge in mind words that might her smile win.

To forge in mind words that might her smile win
Requires true passion’s flame, and words refined
By higher power. The dreams one has in mind
Are but the ore: One must from them burn dross
That holds the soul to earth. From dream I’ll toss
All parts that are not holy, that I might
Hold to the prayer that muse will keep hopes bright.
The line between longing and lust is thin.
All I can do is try my best, to hold
To muse’s gift: She gives with smile the source
For Poetry. I hope not to annoy,
But I wish I might know if muse might fold
Her wings, and listen to my verse: Of course
I long to know how to bring my muse joy.

I long to know how to bring my muse joy
That I might see her smile, and take delight
In showing that the words I choose are right.
I hope to give her pleasure that I find
Such inspiration, yet must be resigned
To holding only in my dreams. Muse is grail,
To give verse desired power: I must veil
Any dream that would muse’s gift destroy.
I value muse for all she is, the cause
Of verse. For lines to vex I would regret:
My muse’s smile is worth far more than gold.
I do not know how to my desires pause,
With such a maid. She is an angel, yet
Arms ache with longing to my muse enfold.


Arms ache with longing to my muse enfold,
For all I know she does not wish it so.
How can I let her my heart’s desires know,
Without giving cause that she would refuse
To share her smile, or let dream of her choose
What can inspire all of my future lines?
Must I abandon hope that her light shines
To give reason to any verses mold?
Am I to hold as hidden heart’s desire
That I might offer cause for smile, or grin?
Can I know what to write, to lines employ
In seeking to in muse’s eyes see fire
To forge in mind words that might her smile win?
I long to know how to bring my muse joy.