MY MUSE, August 1998

My Muse of verse seems to have
Slipped away awhile, leaving
Me a little lost. My mind has
Clicked back into fear and is
More retentive of the things around me,
Of the books I read. No longer
Such a need to escape into the
Realms of fiction so avidly read
All those months of dealing with
That invasion of my body still
So present in my weary thoughts.
But go not, Muse. I have so loved
To have a medium I once used
So much. I think of Sassoon
And his so moving description
Of a man lying dead or sleeping
In the war, so graphic in his
Detail. This is not unlike a war,
When foreign, alien cells fight
In me for dominance. How small
Is this, how slight a matter in
This sorry world, when flood and war
Predominate and people’s lives are
As nothing in the social upheaval
Dominating the world. Peace, oh peace, Lord!

For more information on these poems, contact edmund@balnaves.org