her description of what I saw
is what I would have said
if only I could sing
her depiction of joyous awe
as of a song instead
of what my own words bring
whispers in verse for me to hear
in words I could not say
but yet I understood
dense fogs dispersed to see so clear
my thoughts in disarray
just as I sensed they would
her tempos teach my sense of time
with pause and gentle flows
of rhythms in my heart
suspenses reach intense sublime
anticipation grows
for what she’ll next impart
left to peruse this written thought
that she has related
to the student she chose
sharing my muse through what she brought
that she has dictated
for her scribe to compose
SHARING MY MUSE
Poem by Carl “Papa” Palmer
