The Muse

He remembers he met her on a crowded bus, She was laden down with shopping bags, Her arresting, vivid, blue eyes held defeat of endless deceit, He observed a young woman crumpled, with whispers of loveliness, At times sweeping over her endearing face, He went to her assistance and carried all her bags, As he listened to the sweetness of her shyness, As she told him her name was Mags, Her full, cherry, red lips were quivering, From the starvation of passion, She was dressed in worn jeans and a plain top, Her voluptuous body didn't need any fashion, Walking with such grace, At her own elegant pace. Along the grimy, mean streets, He spots a simple cafe and decides to give her a treat, Along the cream, painted walls, hung large mirrors, As he noticed the reflection of her shimmering, chestnut hair, The features of her face seemed all wrong, Quirky, appealing like the girl in every love song, She told him in a breathless voice strained with pain, Of her struggle that was driving her insane, The night sky couldn't hold her emptiness in all it's vastness, The stars reflect once the twinkle in her lost eyes, As she fights through a jungle of lies, Screaming for the release of her captured soul, From her husband's abuse and demands, She know's she must obey his every command. He held her small, trembling, cold hands, And promised he would be her ally, With his writer's heart moving to a safer place, Colourful ribbons dancing in an azure sky, His emotions soaring with windswept rose petals, Crowning her lustrous, chestnut hair, He knew he was as strong as metal, Holding hands with his destiny of forever, He would cherish, encourage and nourish Mags to breakaway, To empower her to feel a new beginning taking hold, Keeping her safe from the blast of the wintry cold, They left the cafe and embraced, He felt exhilarated like finishing first in a race. That was the last time he ever saw Mags, As his phone calls remained unanswered, The storm of her life probably continues, He writes now with her image fluttering, Like a trapped butterfly in his creative mind, He has accepted her scarred soul is unable to choose, She will remain his forever, elusive, endearing muse.