Ascribe - Alec Jackson

What God has forged you, a muse,
which life has scarred in cruel abuse?
I cannot stand where you are tall,
Venus, mother, love withall.

My eyes can but guess upon your form
from whence the beating heart was torn.
Yet auras glow incandescent hues
of the muse of mine you keep to you.

These words, I doubt, ascribe devotion
sublime and pure with keen precision,
but all thy issue, brood and heir,
will know this disciple; my muse, so fair.

Alec Jackson