The first stanza came out of a dream, after which I left it, until I decided to finish it as piece of whimsy.

The image is courtesy of David George Williams from Wikimedia Commons


Raven Black

The Poets Lament

Late in the night I dreamt awake,
and in that dream, I saw a lake,
out of which stepped a lady fair
with water hyacinths in her hair.

Her hair was raven black,
her eyes were deepest blue;
then she smiled and said:
“I am yours if to yourself be true”.

To the realms of posey she took me
and lead me down an enchanted way,
where rhymes flowed into my mind,
Of subjects sad while others were gay.

Thus, she became the inspiration to me,
by enabling my writing to be free from
any cant or dissonance, and what was
the fashion for poetry; until lackaday!

To my dismay I’d thrown her gift away,
by not attending to our appointments,
indulging instead in easy distractions
masquerading as worldly attractions.

Now late each night I dream asleep,
still hoping for the rendezvous to keep,
but my inspiration is no longer there,
back to her lake has stepped my lady fair.

© D G Moody 2026




Poetry by D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 135 times
Written on 2026-02-24 at 17:50

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Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Hello Dougie
I've not yet found a poem
Of yours that I didn't like.
It seems your muse is still helping you.
She was your inspiration for writing,
This excellent whimsical poem.
Regards Alan
2026-03-02


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Perhaps you need to dive in too. :) A whimsical tale of a spurned muse. The penultimate stanza describes what happens in this disturbing world, in my case because there are too many things on my 'to do' list! Blessings, Allen
2026-02-25