A bit of homage to the lovely spirits, that serve as our muses.

Why is it, when I chase after muses?
They always brush me off with excuses
About how they must needs be here
Or duties call them elsewhere
You'd think a statue would stay there!
And not have to move about anywhere

Erato, I swore I'd love you only
If you'd but help my poetry.
Please, with just one lyric?
And don't give that gimmick
About some place scenic
'Cause I've already seen it

Terpsichore, teach me how to prance
With you, in a graceful dance
You needn't fear my hooves will lance
Your tender feet that move so sweet
When it comes to following a beat
I fear that you, my dear
Have got me beat!

Calliope, I'd sing your praise
If to me, your voice would raise
When you spoke, my heart was braised
Without your music, I feel crazed
You know my love for you goes unphased
But your rejection of me left me razed

Thalia, O patron of music
Take me as your student
My talents, I would deplore
In many an endless metaphor,
If you would but teach me more
Maybe about a dozen score
Because, I only know about four
Just, please, don't show me the door

Urania, for you, I'd go to war
And try to bring you a star
So your gaze wouldn't wander a-far
From my side and leave a scar
Upon my heart, which is so marred
But I can't go and fly so far
Would you settle for a jar?
With fireflies, is that on par?

Melophome I'd die for thee
Love, fight, go to war for thee
You inspire great deeds in me
I'd fight marble prisons to see
That you were always free
I love you, don't you see
Your indifference to me
Is the world's greatest tragedy

Oh, Clio, I thought you would know
How much I do love you so
Given how much you do know
But studying dusty books
Is really a lot harder than it looks
The words buzz around my horns
And leave them twisted like thorns
I guess I'll just have to live
With more of your scorn

Polyhymnia, what would it take
To win someone like ya?
All others I would forsake
If I weren't such flake
And remembered to bring
All those hymns you wanna sing
I never understood those things

Thalia, lady of comedy
For you I will be brief
Just please, no more grief
Show me how to make them laugh
And prove to them I'm not daft
As a satyr, I'm quite apt
At making crowds clap
For me. Or is that thwap?
I fear I've lost count of the slaps.

I'm afraid I've never really seen
The differences between
Wood nymphs and muses
But nobody warned me about
Their neglectful abuses.
I guess I just wasn't cut out
For any of their uses

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Ero, in the year 392 AF.