Poem By Charlotte Ballard

They say muses
Are allotted to writers,
Poets, and such.
Mine must be
New at this
And a lush

Comments about Inspiration

Ha ha! I love it. I think that I have a dozen muses the only problem is that they all talk at once. Perhaps they have been imbibing some of that wobbly water too. Love, Irene
your muse must know my muse...they are probably sharing libations somewhere and making beautiful muse-ick together. Kenneth

Rating Card

2,8 out of 5
2 total ratings

Other poems of BALLARD

A Poet's Heart

Who knows what's is in
A poet's heart-it could be
Rainbows and candy apples
Ferris wheels or Topsy Turvys

Ode To Pizza

You delight the nose with evocative
Promise of stringy cheese, pepperoni
And tomato sauce warm. Each piece
Contested over, grabbed, hungered over

Two Watchers

I saw a leaf fall today
Burnt orange oak
Drifting down alone -
All its fellows

To Emily Dickinson

Emily, your words breathe fire.
From simple words to grand designs-
Heaven drops, sweet nectar.
I propose a promise

The Night Rider

Watch for the one that comes in the night
Unbidden and unknown-
Spring up on barren ground,
He rides a charging steed.


Taps are being played
In the middle of me
To say good-bye
To that part that