Ma. Ana Janine Maurine

(To my muse...)

She, who reigns over my kingdom of gardens,
silent in her beauty and grace,
walks among the poppies and roses.

Her shadow casts long white silk
over the faces of the magnolias and tulips,
shamed by her presence.

The sun rises to light her path,
while the moon weeps from her absence,
the stars wake from their slumber,
waiting for her to pass.

My muse, you who stole my heart,
when may I see your face or,
indulge in your sweetness?

So that I may rest,
from this never ending wandering
lost in my kingdom of gardens,
that praises you.