My Muse

O my muse, my sweet muse!
Early morning,
in the gentle breeze of Rose-Hill,
I often feel you on my windowsill.

To you my pains and joys I daily reveal,
Because I know for me you deeply feel.

We fly together to Corps De Garde mountain,
Our laughter echoing, emotions unchained.
On a luminous rainbow we always sit,
Thousands of lamps are elegantly lit.

You take me to Mother Sparrow
who on my palm whispers, “No sorrow.”
The flowers I caress,
To my pets I say, “No regrets.”

With you back in my room,
I meet No Longer Gloom.

Like a halo around my head
you smile
and I write,
I run a thousand miles.

Vatsala Radhakeesoon

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About vatsala radhakeesoon

Born in Mauritius in 1977, Vatsala Radhakeesoon is the author of the poetry books ,When Solitude Speaks (2013) and Depth of the River ( July 2017). She is the representative of Immagine and poesia (Italy based literary artistic movement) for Mauritius. Her works also regularly appear in online literary journals, magazines and blogs such as Setu, Indiana Voice Journal, Dissident Voice , Tuck Magazine , Destiny Poets and others. Vatsala is currenly self-employed and continues to write poems in English, Kreol, French and Hindi.

12 thoughts on “My Muse

  1. Sunil Sharma

    The tender side of poetry.
    Women poets experience and employ language more delicately, as opposed to a masculine prose/poetry by the males of the tribe.
    This poem is the solid evidence for the skeptics.


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