Tag Archives: muse

the muse

the muse

she is like a penny, face up, begging
to be lifted from the asphalt, treasure
promised if I dare give her a moment’s
thought, a hint of blush dusts her cheeks,
eyes, dark, translucent blue, cerulean really,
that pierce my soul, first glance, drawing
me deeper… she likes shadowy places,
nooks, crannies, pre-dawn and gloaming,
alcoves and hollows, her scent is musk, with
undertones of moss, earth and ink waiting for the
quill’s long, lingering dip, pale skin like velvet,
cool to the touch, covered in baby fine hair that
glistens in the light, her hair, fiery red, long,
wavy, cascading softly past her shoulders…
she is not the life of the party, but her words,
softly spoken, draw select clusters of seekers, like
me, who have grown to appreciate her wisdom
and honesty…fools vex  her…she has been known
to slay them with a single line, but mostly
she ignores them, pearls and swine, you know,
for those of us who are privileged to call
her friend, to see the world through her
eyes is like peeking through a forbidden
keyhole, Valhalla waiting on the other side


For MindLoveMiserysMenagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt – To write about my muse as if she had been given corporeal form and could interact with the outside world. 

Saturday with the Muse

would that flowers
lingered longer,
never fading…
but then we’d
miss the magic
of seeing them

the music ended
still, they danced
a song in their hearts

garden, honey drunk,
rain misting…a sea
of petals, purple,
rose red, pink
summer symphony


Magnetic Poetry Online

Blame the Muse

“Use what talents you possess…The woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those who sung best.” Henry Van Dyke

poets weave
twenty-six letters
into thoughts
words to inspire, to move
and then blame the muse


A Shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) for Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt inspired by the Henry Van Dyke quote and collage above.

Magnetic Poetry Saturday

Something different this week. Instead of creating a digital photo creation for the poetry that emerges from the magnets, I’m letting you in on the creative process, my dance with the muse, so to speak.  What do you think? Do you like seeing the words that didn’t make the cut? I find them quite compelling…

beneath the forest
green every living
thing is wild and
free though they
are deeply rooted
in stone

the best we can
hope for in life
is love and peace,
laughter and luck…
a bit of chocolate
always helps

though you are crushed
by life’s storms be
not bitter for it is
after the rain that
a garden smells
her sweetest

coffee breath kisses
warm lips, moist
with hints of
salt and caramel
devouring me slowly
my heart’s desire…
mornings like this

Happy Saturday!


Create your own verse HERE.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 24 April 2016

Good morning world! It has been a week of entertaining the muse. She fills my busy brain to the brim with lovely words, knowing that I can’t resist letting a few spill out onto hungry blank pages. This week was about about embracing the fact that I see a world that exists between the lines. Each moment is a lovely comma…a selah.

Of course I know this in my heart. I’ve always known that when others see gray, I see silver…when others see chaos, I see Fibonacci swirls. I am odd (though I prefer  the word eccentric).

And I have a choice. I can force myself to color inside the lines, to blend in as I am expected to do. Or I can surrender to the exhilaration that comes from each wild stroke that breaks free. It only takes a moment. For me, it is an obvious  choice. 

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 24 April 2016

Find lasting peace
and burrow deep
love is in bloom; we must take a selfie!
but clearly this takes a bit of practice.
she fills my hollow head
what do they have in common
for me to forget
waterbending orbs…
a hypothetical glass,
promise in a glass half full
bestowing grace
but you had already gone
goodbyes are temporary woes.
that year for him…and for her…spring never came.
some don’t give one iota
this odd little place is in my neighborhood
heavy droplets descend
waning runs red.


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