Music Is My Muse

Music is my muse.

The song in my heart is the same one played in the words on a page.
They weave a melody of letters and notes, a piano and violin between the pen strokes.
A harp is the tune of flowing letters. A drumbeat, a melody.

Music is my muse.

The brush swoops across the page in a concerto, a daydream of summer lullabies.
Yellow and red, blue and purple, splashing across the canvas in sharp notes
fading softly to the edges.
The picture is the song running through my mind; brought from a dream, suddenly to life.

Music is my muse.

The everyday music of wind through the trees, of sunshine on grass,
the laughter of a friend.
Deliberate, meaningful music, brought to life in the throat of a piano, a violin, a flute.

Music is my muse.

The words I write are the songs I sing.
Songs of the heart, how I dare to dream.
A melody in the story of the pen on a page.
Love and dreams behind the songs, behind the stories, within the heart.

Music is my muse.

Every painting is a song, every pencil stroke a note.
One is an opera, the other a short song, but both tell the same story.
What do you desire? What do you have to share?
What is in my art, in my writing, in my heart?

Music.

Music is my muse.