The Muses & Me – Pamela Scott

I seek answers in the stars

Elegant and enchanting, we are very privileged to include Pamela Scott’s exceptional poem in the Voices blog and competition. Pamela hails from Glasgow and her fantastic work has featured in publications such as: Buckshot Magazine, Brilliant Flash Fiction, A Quiet Courage, Allegro Poetry Magazine and Dream Catcher. She has also featured in anthologies published by Collections of Poetry and Prose and Indigo Dreams Press. At the time of writing, Pamela is working on a novel.  



Calliope whispers in my ear

when I write obsessively

about my epic journeys

of self-discovery and revelation.

She writes words of

inspiration on her

ancient writing tablet.

She spurns me

on when I feel like giving

up and think I’ve got no

words left inside me.

She won’t let me quit.


Clio perches on top

of my desk when

I write screeds and screeds

of poetry telling my life story.

She records every step

of my journey on the

pages of her ancient scrolls.

She reminds me

of facts I’ve forgotten.

She supplies me with

cups of tea.

She perks

me up with chocolate.


Euterpe lies back on my bed and plays

the flute day and night when

all my poems

and thoughts


Her beat’s addictive

and inspirational.

Her tunes make my ears

ring for hours.

My poems flow to her steady beat.

We make beautiful words together.

Our rhythm is divine.


Erato dances

around my room playing

her lyre and singing melodies

when love in all its splintered

glory infects my poetry.

She makes it sunny every day.

The sky’s blue and bright.

Her infectious voice

and music capture me

and I tap and hum along.


Melpomene sings melancholy ballads

of woe behind her tragic mask

as I lie in bed drowning my sorrows

with bottles of vodka and write

angry poems of a loveless life.

She doesn’t offer much comfort.

She weeps in time with me.

Her sorrowful songs bring fresh despair.

We drink three bottles between us.


Polyhymnia keeps vigil at my side beneath

a black veil for weeks after

my grand-mother dies.

I write with fiery passion, poems about

the unfairness of death.

She sings hymns in the sweetest,

saddest voice I’ve ever heard.

She wipes my tears as they spill

down my cheeks.

She comforts me.


Terpsichore dances

in tune with me playing sweet songs

on her lyre the night I get really

drunk and dance around my

room to prove I can make it

on my own.

My feet move

in rhythm with her tune.

She picks me up each time

I stumble.

She washes sick out

of my hair and helps me into bed.


Thalia perches on

my bookshelf and tells jokes behind

her comic mask the day I write

an epic poem about a woman’s

love affair with a bar of chocolate.

Every punch line makes me roar

with laughter.

Tears roll down

my cheeks.

I laugh so much

my throat hurts and I feel stitches

in my side.

We roll about on the floor.


Urania peers into

her globe and compass the night

I seek answers in the stars.

I stare up at the moon, the black

sky and twinkling stars and pray

our paths will cross again.

I talk to the moon about you

for hours. I tell the night sky our story.

I beg the woman

who lives there to send you back to me.

I make a wish on a shooting star.

Pamela Scott, Glasgow

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation. Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

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