A Sonnet from the Poet to His Muse

I woke because the vision was unclear
Too far away the dream I wanted near
A dawn of beauty rising in the east
The dream ungrasped, the vision unreleased
At times an angel living in my skin
A softness and a passion welcomed in
At times like now a sun behind a cloud
A fire both undenied and unallowed
Alone I wandered words that would not end
Because my muse had others to attend
But trusting in her ever-promised light
I rose to face the morning and to write
And as the vision cleared from east to west
I saw the infant daughter at her breast

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