Glass Muse

She stands there,

My glass Muse,

Like a crystal statue,

Clear and pure.

Her face,

Luminous and pale,

Like silver moonlight

Reflecting on calm nightly waters,

Inspire

The weakened minds

Of dismal poets

Her hands,

Delicate and graceful,

Like bright white fire,

Arouse

The deadened souls

Of lost artists

Her voice,

Soft and enchanting,

Like faint music

Dancing in the wind,

Whisper

In the vacant dreams

Of sleeping men

Yes, there she stands,

Beautiful and majestic,

A queen.

Yet,

I dare not glance her way

Lest she disappears,

My glass Muse.

I dare not touch her skin

Lest she breaks,

My glass Muse.