Sonnet for the Muse

Author's note: Yes, I know a sonnet has 14 lines. This one has 18 because I had more to say. Call it a "super sonnet." Thanks for reading.



I glance around me and see empty looks
The souls who share my plight have ceased to be
Their words, their tales, their pain, threaded in books
Inside me stirs their living legacy

It's fitting, in pentameter, to pant
The classic lyric of these longing lines
Embrace you in my words, since my arms can't
Per Shelley, it's not stalking if it rhymes

Thy nearness brings the vapors, though unseen
As if my corset has been cinched too tight
My heart's a lust-crazed, Beatles-concert teen
Your slightest touch and I might faint of fright

Sometimes I wish I could just douse this light
And often this ache is self-medicated
But without stars, this darkness is no night
And without you, I sleep, sans dreams, sedated

Though true, your eyes doth not like the sun shine,
Shakespeare himself would crave a muse like mine.