9. Couplets -- The Muse in Me

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The 99 Poem Challenge
Fox-Trot-9

9. Couplets — The Muse in Me

When I describe the muse in me, I see
No dainty goddess, not the fickle she
That poetizing rhymers often use
To clear their fickle heads to write. My muse
Is not the muse that wears a Sunday dress
And walks on wobbly feet: my muse is less
A dainty girl that loves to hide and more
A man of bravery and grit and war,
A battle-hardened general in the fight
To win against the writer's block of night.
My muse's eyes are keen and stern, so full
Of scope; he peers beyond the endless dull
Of th' everyday to see the hallowed fairs
That dreamers rarely reach, and even dares
To peer into the depths of human fear!
Oh, how I tremble when my muse is near!
His brows are wrinkled, hair be-grizzled gray
And white as one who's past his prime of day,
His stature's not too short or tall, nor is
He muscled much but thinly built. But this
Dear pen I use to write my rhymes, he wields
With all the strength of fearless men and yields
To none in daring me to write my best
In all I write, no matter what the test,
No matter what the cost. And where he'll march,
I'll write his marching orders down and parch
The rhymes of those Old Nine that rhymers use *
Too much, who write too much of lover's blues.
Composing couplets such as these is such
A taxing art, where every rhyme I clutch
From out the crowded static of my thoughts
Becomes a messy battlefield that rots 
Away mine every confidence of wit,
Destroying all my hopes to have it writ.
But in the noisy din of composition,
Where voices often scream in competition
For me to write, the muse in me directs
My wayward thoughts and rhymes, and oft selects
The clearest path to victory—and loses!
Alas, I wish it were an easy process!
As strong and forceful as my muse can be,
For every victory he captures, three
Or more defeats he often suffers at
The hands of fickle writer's block, and that
Is hard for any muse to take. So when
The battle's lost and day is done, the pen
With which I write is laid upon the paper;
Retreating back across the field to ponder
So grim a loss, my muse and I will go
Our separate ways tonight. But quitting, no!
Before we part, my muse then turns to me
And says: "So once again I've failed in thee;
But do not fear, dear poet: failure's only
Another way of knowing how it's simply
An obstacle that can be overcome.
A poet's muse can often be outdone,
But it's the poet (you) that keeps me going
Through all defeat; it's you that I am owing
Mine every strength. So long as you won't quit,
I'll always be your courage, rhyme and wit."

(To be continued...)

A/N: In general, couplets are two lines of any meter that rhyme. More specifically, these are heroic couplets, often used in epic poetry.

* Old Nine = the nine muses of Greek mythology. See "Muse" at Wikipedia.

Meter: Iambic pentameter
Rhyme: aabbccddee...

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