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There are moments as a writer when the muse, the inspiration, the demand from within, takes over your time, your heart, your mind. These moments are never convenient. They deliver themselves often when you’re at your busiest. I believe this phenomenon happens to everyone. Writers – poets are the people who stop and pay homage to the muse.

While working diligently (and quite successfully I might add) on my list of goals for writing and publishing for the next year/month/week, I felt the muse wrench my heart and demand to be heard. I’d promised my lovely wife a poem. The one I first penned came out lame and uninspired. I could not show it to her. My heart, my soul, the muse, call it, them, me, who, whatever you wish, said, “Here’s how you do it.”

This is a first draft. To my lovely wife Bobbie,

She Whispered

She whispered

“My heart soars whenever you touch me.”

She lay there

Beauty, resplendent, sublime.

She whispered

“I love you always, forever and now.”

I lay there

Stunned, freed, bewildered – “she’s mine.”

She whispered

“I need you, my breath, my love and my life.”

She lay there

Beauty, resplendent, my wife.

She whispered

“Forgive me your suffering, your anguish, your pain.”

I lay there

Stunned, bewildered, tears cascading like rain.

For long had I whispered

“My heart soars when we touch.”

I’d lain there

Decades, watching helpless, beauty to rust

I’d often shouted

“I love you forever.”

I’d often spoken

“I need you more than my heart.”

I’d whispered

“Forgive me, allow me to love you.”

I’d lain there

Mystified, perplexed and confused.

Until the day she whispered

“My heart soars when you touch me.

I need you, my breath, my love and my life

I love you always, forever and now.”

I cried the day she whispered

“My heart soars when you touch me.”

We move forward in love –

Always. Forever. And now…

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