He told me I was his muse...

I haven't wrote any poetry in years but for some reason, I was inspired today.

He told me I was his muse;
His goddess of inspiration.
I inspired him to be, to be a better and more loving him.

This wasn’t an intentional thing; rather happenstance.
I didn’t know that when we took this ‘love thing’ to next level, that we were taking a serious chance.

Inspire, persuade, tempt and prod. He took this “pen” to my “soul”,
Like a medical caduceus rod. Healing the inner being and not foreseeing.

Oh yes, yes, he pierced me...pierced me so deep and so profound.
Even Mother Nature herself was dumbfound.

He told me I was his muse;
His goddess of inspiration.
I inspired him to be, to be a better and more loving him.

I wondered if it were the lushness of my body like green valleys of old,
Or the switch in walk that made him want to sell his soul.

This wasn’t something I asked for, yet it enticed me nonetheless.
I gave into the temptation with him; expecting nothing less.

He told me I was his muse;
His goddess of inspiration.
I inspired him to be, to be a better and more loving him.

He spread my lower hemisphere from west to east;
Intertwined my upper hemisphere with his. He rode me to cosmic ends
Of the universal with no sense of urgency.

He rode me, and rode me and rode me, and oh how he rode me.
We saw Creation and the Rapture, with no fear in our hearts.
We saw the beginnings of all things pure when they start.

When it was over, I understood what he meant.
To be inspired in every sense of the word is heaven sent.

He told me I was his muse;
His goddess of inspiration.
I inspired him to be, to be a better and move loving him.