Troubadour à Muse
Should you stay fey Troubadour’s muse,
walls would fall heeding need's call, I swear,
souls united, delighted, all share,
with only bemusement to lose.
On days dark, in the dumps, much the blues,
with a butterfly touch, laughter rare,
Cupid's bow, Zephyr's blow, would declare
Cinderella should don dancing shoes.
Enchantment spells well to enthuse
rejoicing that naught could impair,
jubilation, creation, forms stair
to heaven through rainbow as woos
heart to heart once apart, each takes cues
up, around, to rebound, well may dare
answer call of the wild, child repair
to prepare transformation's true hues.
Should you play kind Troubadour’s muse,
away with toils, trouble and care -
discovering answers to prayer
with wantonness neither refuse.
When you kiss bliss takes wing, life renews
welfare's tune springing wellspring, brings where
bright eyes dream through lagoon blue moon, there
stars sparkle, shine, intertwine views.
No blame could exist, no accuse
‘WE’ creation could catalyze, air
to stimulate stanzas, - nor scare,
nor fear, dear, no asking ‘what’s whose? ’
Thus your mirror, fair Troubadour’s muse,
Time lines leaves behind, neither ware
of the need to seed feelings, feed, share
beyond commonplace keyed to amuse.
If O.K. bright ray, Troubadour's muse,
each phrase might rhyme praise everywhere,
spirit brave, blithe, reve[a]led as each layer
protective peels, unseals joy's fuse.
As Troubadour's muse you should choose
priceless patterns and textures, compare
clear vision in tender affair
to humdrum existence crowd rues,
there fusion would never confuse,
inspiration enough, and to spare,
intuitive insight aware
of the chance to advance, shed taboos.
Interplay between Troubadour, muse,
flamboyancy splices with flair,
both would sow, both would grow, as a pair,
flow as current electric to use
space as base to trace joy - not abuse -
we should tenderness share, greet, prepare
ideal idyll past fast will repair...
would you play fair as Troubadour's muse?
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
The Troubadour
Glowing with love, on fire for fame
A Troubadour that hated sorrow
Beneath his lady's window came,
And thus he sung his last good-morrow:
'My arm it is my country's right,
My heart is in my true-love's bower;
Gaily for love and fame to fight
Befits the gallant Troubadour.'
And while he marched with helm on head
And harp in hand, the descant rung,
As faithful to his favourite maid,
The minstrel-burden still he sung:
'My arm it is my country's right,
My heart is in my lady's bower;
Resolved for love and fame to fight
I come, a gallant Troubadour.'
Even when the battle-roar was deep,
With dauntless heart he hewed his way,
'Mid splintering lance and falchion-sweep,
And still was heard his warrior-lay:
'My life it is my country's right,
My heart is in my lady's bower;
For love to die, for fame to fight,
Becomes the valiant Troubadour.'
Alas! upon the bloody field
He fell beneath the foeman's glaive,
But still reclining on his shield,
Expiring sung the exulting stave:-
'My life it is my country's right,
My heart is in my lady's bower;
For love and fame to fall in fight
Becomes the valiant Troubadour.'
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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My Muse Is Free
I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Troubadour
The troubadour from an unseen place comes,
To poetically sing of those current events...
In villages where such a presence can incense,
Those with dirty laundry to hide...
In secret corners to deny and blocked to sightings,
From those not living within exclusive fences...
To protect their doings without lament.
Entertaining but may be found highly offensive,
When the lyrics of the poet stings...
And nothing romantic are among the offerings.
Since this troubadour intends,
To mock and parrot those incidents defended...
By those living amongst the villagers,
And pretending a nonrealistic existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Provisions
Oil, wine and some fruits;
And to reassure your sweet love with my muse!
But i met you in am open field last night,
And i will look after you with my love.
Provisions and gifts,
In the open fields of love and care;
But i will surely deliver you with my love,
And like the muse of joy in the land of plenty.
Provisions, soon, son, sons, vision, visions, in, pin, poor!
And all around with the muse of your love;
But write down the words that i have spoken to you in a book,
For my joy is like the muse of the rainbow seen around.
Provisions, on, no, pros, sin, sins, ion, ions, is, in, pins!
But the life of a hunter is like the life of your muse;
And like the joy of your love as seen around,
Because i am ever ready to share my mind with you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Hidden Heart
AS I rode out of Lochinvar
About me all the scene was fair;
The skies, with not a cloud to mar,
Were filled with fresh and dewy air,
While making song, a merry throng,
The thrushes warbled everywhere.
As I rode out of Lochinvar
Through Fairydom I seemed to go,
For round about, and near and far,
Enchanted lights began to glow;
And where I went, on what intent,
And who I was I did not know!
For lo, I met a troubadour
As I rode out of Lochinvar;
His like on earth is seen no more,
With feathered hat and gay guitar;
And loud and clear, and sweet to hear,
He sang a song of love and war.
As I rode out of Lochinvar
He sang a song I somehow knew,
The while he touched his gay guitar;
And when I asked him, 'Who are you?'
'Yourself!' he said — and bowed his head,
And vanished like the morning dew.
Though I may see him nevermore,
This much in very truth I ken,
That one, at heart a troubadour,
May seem a sober citizen,
Who sets afar his gay guitar
To seem just like his fellow men.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Only One Hole
Only one hole for the muse of your love,
So take it whole and share it with others;
For the appropriate action of your muse is needed by others,
And like the joy of your red valley in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Emell
This muse of love is like how to write a song,
This muse of care is like how to write a poem,
This muse of peace is like how to write a stroy,
This muse of joy is like how to write a book,
But, i am now delivered with the muse of your love!
Because, i now live in the land of your muse and,
You are called Emell.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Creative Mind!
Creative mind!
In the land of the heart of your muse to satisfy me;
But, what about those in the snow?
Creative mind!
Out of love in the land of your muse;
But, are you ready to learn? ! !
For, the muse of this love is all about us.
Creative mind!
Justified by the muse of your love;
And like your works as seen by all,
But, try to be yourself always.
Creative mind!
Love it and enjoy it and play with it;
For, the muse of my love is very fast and very easy! !
And like the joy around you in the land of peace,
But, try to understand my sweet muse of love always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Zebrudayah
Acah, Zeruyah, Zebi and Zebrudayah!
Friends of love to share the muse of peace;
And like the rats in the holes who want to take a rest,
Because this is the day for you and i want to swing on your muse of love.
I know your abode and you know my muse,
But you are turning things upside down like the potter's clay!
And you know the truth on this muse of love,
But when it comes to love, be esteemed like the strong forest! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Muse
Come, songwriters, present your best,
And earn a lovely woman's praise;
You singers come, let your voices
Be heard and used well to serve her:
And dance forth, you nymphs and angels;
Wonderful music for my Muse.
Her body is love's paradise,
There are no eyes as bright and true;
She is wiser than the poet,
And fairer than a comely queen:
Yes all perfections do combine
To beautify my mystic Muse.
She's Womans's choicest example,
Where honour, wisdom, wit and wile
Are all united in her heart.
The Graces claim her heritage:
All virtues that are most divine
Surely shine clearest in my Muse.
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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To A... Muse
TO A... MUSE
May neither time nor tide upon your Muse
Abide for long but long for music more,
Unreeling till eternity true score
DEclining years cannot erase, abuse.
Many seek to speak but Chance can't choose
Another whose as sensitive, whose core
Unmoved remains, resistant to Time's maw,
DEar, modest, understates the role her views
Must play within our universal glues
As bridge between ‘I thought’, ‘I sought’ encore.
Under that bridge stream flows to Eden's shore,
DEsire ‘acceptance’ draws from past ‘refuse’.
MAsterpiece ‘Unstable’ modifies,
DErides blocks, barricades, unlocks joy’s skies
6 July 2008
robi03_1531_robi03_0000 ASX_LXX
To A…Muse poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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A Fear Through Words
It is through fear I write this
Through fear I dare not speak these words
Or name the muse of who I pen them to
I hold a gentle and honest love to my heart
Such a love as yet untried and unknown
What good are my words when I cannot speak them
To my muse so beautiful so sweet, so divine
I fear I may lose them so completely
That I stay silent, bide my words so well
And watch with abject despair
My muse, object of my whole desire
Grow more distant with each passing day
And I fear I may lose all together
By speaking these words, these cursed words
I asked myself once, what I search for
Is it what I want or what I need in life
And there I saw my muse, a world of beauty
More than I could imagine or ask for
A gentle heart and loving nature
Those warm soothing eyes I look to
Do not see me as I would wish
I fear if they were to, see my innermost soul
My passion and my love for them
They would turn away and be lost completely
Which is why I write with fear
These words I dare not speak
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Unexpected
My heart as always been an open book
I hide nothing, it's just who I am
But because of certain
Paths that I took
The unexpected
The wrong choices
I use to close my heart
To any person that tried to get close
I find it hard to share
My soul
My heart
My very being
To anyone that wants
To get close
Through my muse
I express what I feel
Through my muse
I hide no lies
Through my muse
I've learnt how to be alive
Through my muse
I've meet all of you
You have shown me how to love
You have shown me how to smile
You have shown me how to share
You have shown me how to be human
And I've learnt to be free
By just being me
With that in mind
I thank you all for just being you.
And being my friend
©Copyright Kaila George 2012
poem by Kaila George
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Who is in charge?
My muse continues to abuse
her position. She will refuse
to use her skills to help me out
That she’s in charge she has no doubt.
But I have bad news for my muse.
I have arranged some interviews
with other muses unemployed
Who say they would be overjoyed
to find themselves in with a chance
Which would improve their circumstance.
My muse is old and crotchety
she really thinks, she employs me.
I think it’s time that she retired
a thought which she herself inspired.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Me And You II
This poem os for me and you,
But the world can also read it to learn from it;
For it is all about the love that we share,
And like the muse of the rainbow in the land of joy.
Come and feel my muse with your love,
Come and let me lead you on;
For this narrow path of love is lijke the muse of the blue sea,
But the red sea is closer to your house.
I am the one that you need,
You are the one that i need,
And like a jooy ride in the land of roses!
For, this poem is only for me and you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Lady Esperanza
Some say my feet never do touch the ground
So I asked the gods and this I found
I, a daughter of Libra am of the element air
Beautiful, soothing, light hearted tender and fair
Others say I always play the fool
For I easily fall in love with no clue
Whether it be lust or true
Then I looked up to the sky
And there right next to the southern star up high
I saw my destiny written in the stars
I saw faults, my hurts and all my scars
My heart is ruled by Venus, goddess of love
So do not question my unending waters of love
But wait, hear me
Though quick to love, I am wiser than most you see
Libra, scales, I keep the balance
And to do so it takes great wisdom and balance
My colour, blue
But wait, not just any blue
It's a rainbow of blues
I said, a rainbow of the sweetest yet saddest melody of blues
The azure of the sky
The blue of the Caspian oh my
The darkest blue of the night sky
The blue of beautiful violets growing in Gaea's garden
Some say I have a certain glow about me
Look they say, quick do you see?
She has the light of hope
One look at her and with any problem you can cope
When I hear these words, I smile
With my heart and eyes, I smile
So rightly named
The lady Esperanza I was named
My African title, Subila
It too means hope, a hope that heals, a healer
Finally, I shall tell you of my muse
Of the nine muses Calliope is my muse
Muse of the poetic art
She chose me and set me apart
And now here I stand
My strongest weapon, a pen in hand
poem by Esperanza Chilupula
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Lakota
Buffalo,
Resulting,
The dark cloud! !
Of the harmony,
With peace and loce;
But in Lakota to rest my mind!
And, as clear as it could be with your love.
The muse of love,
The muse of peace,
The muse of unity,
The muse of care;
But, true to that purpose! !
And like this river on my side;
For, in Lakota i will rest my mind.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Echo
Rust on his wail and melted like the snow,
And like fair women and brave men;
But death's prophetic ears gather the tears.
Trembling in distress and the look of things,
With checks all pale at night!
And like the flying feet without a rest at last.
Merry as a marriage-bell,
That was the echo of the wind to my ears at last;
But with soft eyes ans the look of the muse of love,
And the pleasant things of love are always around me.
Cold and low ans full of lusty life,
And in beauty's circles i will share my muse with you;
For the breasts of love do water my peaceful garden.
Double joy went through my mind with your muse,
And with rich blossom trees to swing along;
But your deep-blue eyes are here to stay.
The lilies gave me love and peace like,
The fresh water from your ocean of love;
But the echo around me is like the ruler of your waters,
And of the early flowers of the muse of your paradise.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Parpa
He is called Parpa ad
My love to him is like beauty and the beast;
But i do know his story and feelings too.
Our hearts will grow on this love,
And i will surrender all that i have to him;
For life is all about the muse of love.
I will not worry much about what i have,
Since i am in love with him;
But when life is empty, where will i go without him?
There are more things we do behind close doors,
And Parpa is my man on this muse so sweet;
For he has all that it takes to love me.
Making love with him is all that makes me go round deeper than ever!
For the first time that i ever saw his face,
I knew that he was the one to carry me on like the blues of songs.
I thought the sun reflected on the rose of love beside me,
So i will never leave him alone on this love;
For Parpa is my man so sweet on this muse that satisfies my heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Let Me Share My Love With You
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you slippers so that you do not walk along barefooted.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me cloth you with the muse of love so that you do not walk around naked.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you enough food so that you do not go hungry.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me give you enough water so that you do not go thirsty.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me take care of you under my shelter so that you do not become homeless.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me share my money with you so that you do not become penniless.
Come, and let me share my love with you;
And, let me take you around the world so that you do not become loneliness.
For this life needs the positive values of the muse of love and,
I have enough to share with you in my humble abode of peace and care.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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