The Writer

He sat, hunched, over the blank sheet of paper, a pen poised over it. He had been sitting there for hours but, no great stroke of inspiration came to him. One could see his mind working desperately through his unfocussed eyes. Yet it only drew blanks.

Nymph

I sit alone on rocky shores
Watching the tides rise and fall;
Alone I sit in endless wait
For he who owns my heart, my all.

Reminiscence

Erato, Erato, where didst thou go?
My heart sings too softly without thee.
Erato, Erato come back and say,
Say once again how you love me.

Succubus

They walked together,
Hand in hand, in
The shadow of the moon;
His heart beat ever
Faster as she
Kissed him all too soon.

The Descent

He was a man,
Like any other;
Somebody's beloved,
Somebody's brother.