The Muse
by Anita Dallar
Silhouette images enter my dreams
and tell me tales of when we could fly.
Circles in motion become the gears
which spin my psyche to another time.
Sounds appear in sudden flashes
shapes dance upon my mind.
They reel my soul through rites of passage
and weave a dream that cries to render.
Stealing my sanity and opposing my will
they defy all gravity and leave me ill.
Inspire my works but shatter my mind
become the catalyst which stamps out time.
Electrified bolts which surge through my veins
leaving as fast as once they came.
They bequeath to me a shining treasure
but take from me in equal measure.
Fostering the growth of a tender spirit
they watch me evolve and judge my merit.
Ever so slowly they toss out a chance
to bring them upon the silent eyes.
"The Muse" ©1989 by Anita Dallar
The Reluctant Messiah
by Anita Dallar
He dipped into healing waters
and shared what he found with the world.
He lifted us up
and we brought him down
back down to Earth.
He shined before us
and we bathed in his warmth.
We loved him
We adored him
We used and abused him.
He despised us
while he guided us.
He needed and loathed us.
A compilation of contradictions
his compassion transformed us.
Blamed for his burden
our loyalty annoys him.
A humorous entanglement
and bewitching enlightenment.
Drawn to his lore
like moths to a flame.
A deep admiration
meets aloof indignation.
Each song is a sermon
with fans as his flock.
Why preach to hundreds
when you can reach thousands.
This singing vicar
healed and touched millions.
"The Reluctant Messiah” ©2016 by Anita Dallar
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