Tender Muse - A Poem by Moe

Tender, she has called again
For time and place, the where the when
The newness now awaiting space
To step inside this empty place

Where once abode the new, now old
Where once was bought, now newly sold
Bought back by him to till and toil
This fertile ground, this tender soil

Whose cost required steady strength
And measured value, breadth and length
Of all the seed that he would sow
That worthy love has room to grow

For what was once a vibrant field
Was burned and branded worthless yield
Yet since this tender looked his way
He found the strength and worth to pay

Such tender beauty branded new
Would find his inner strength so true
And bring to life the man he was
To work the field of worthy cause

So tender planning he proceeds
By slowly pulling out old weeds
Those left behind by worthless yield
Have lost their claim to worthy field

And as for she, this tender muse
The day will come when she will choose
A field whose worth will match her own
To yield back love that she has sown

And when that land has born much fruit
Retaining strength from branch to root
Maybe he will bring to use
This brand new seed for tender muse

~Moses