Hello, and welcome to Anonymous Couplets for Muses Association. This forum is designed to not only be a source of inspiration for aspiring poets and writers alike, but to also showcase some of the talented poets that submit their work to be shared with the world.
What began as a simple poetry blog for our founder, Gianna Sampson, has morphed into something much more profound. Not only are we able to provide a creative outlet for the chaos that bottles up in our lives, but we provide helpful tips and tricks to help writer’s escape writer’s block, tap into their innermost emotions, and create art through their writing.
Every week you can check back to improve your writing, be inspired by your fellow poets, and find beauty in the works of the poets before us. You can also send us an email if you would like one of your own poems or pieces featured on the ACMA website.
If you have any questions, suggestions, famous poets you’d like to see on the site, or want to know more about how you can achieve your dreams of becoming a poet, you’ve come to the right place. Those interested in joining our sister site, Ashby Dialogues, can head over there to engage in creative discussion surrounding thought-provoking books, poems, articles, and other literary works that get your blood pumping.
We’ll leave you with Gianna’s most quoted poem by William Butler Yeats—He Remembers Forgotten Beauty:
When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God’s eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew,
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.
