When you least expect it
Where does a muse come from, heaven only knows, they sort of creeps up on you, slowly their inspiration grows
You start to write poetry, and when you read it back again, there's glimpses of someone you know, that's been hidden in your brain
It might be of how they look, their lips, their smile, their eyes, it might describe their kindness, but it has come as a surprise
You may not have realised, how much of a impression they made on you, but now they're in your poetry and you're thinking of them too
So a muse can be anyone, they can inspire you from anywhere, but once you know you have one, it's nice to know they're there
Do you keep it to yourself, just write poetry inspired from afar, because surely you can't tell them, or a friendship you could mar
Its like you want them know, you're inspired by who they are, but you don't want to loose them, so you best pay homage from afar
But deep down you kinda hope, when the reading time to time, they can see, some parts of them, lovingly hidden in my rhyme
Ron