Muse (poem)

[Marcus Aurelius]

My Muse sleeps

My muse sleeps.
The wind blows and the mighty oak twists ever so slightly.
The moss between the aged roots feels a slight chill but there is no fear.
No panic. All is good.
A ray of sun filters through and she smiles in her sweet sleep.
There is a song that harmony brings.
This subtle voice reaches her ear.
Her bones are at peace. Her eyes begin to open, to awaken but her heart says no.
Her lips smile, her eyes close and she is warm.
Her open palm feels the soft moss and connects.
Distant smells of old bring her a smile.
Adrift once again she is happy.


Seeing her smile I no longer feel tired.
I see the scars I bare.
Tears lost in the rain.
You are safe for now.
Rest.
--------


I write short stories as well. I just don't know if any of you would be interested.

[Unique_Carpenter]

You're asking users, if a mod can post lit? If disliked, you know you'll hear about it. Just an incentive thought to keep you on your toes.
Would you post here or in your turf? Just want to know where to look.

[Marcus Aurelius]

Don't dance, it's beneath you.

[Unique_Carpenter]

Sometimes one must dance, even if on the edge of whatever, to get, share, or provide, perspective:
(Regardless, nice to see "Muse" again. This time on the main board).

[Marcus Aurelius]

I have no real power here. I keep things simple and offer an open hand. An artist can only grow when truth takes chisel in hand.

[Marcus Aurelius]

"Again." Yes it's true. I dusted it from an old chest of mine.
A name or home is just another shadow. Another sip of defrutum and sapa wine.

[Unique_Carpenter]

"Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth.": Picasso

[Marcus Aurelius]

"Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot. Some transform a yellow spot into the sun."

[Marcus Aurelius]

As for me, I paint her like one of my French girls.

[Marcus Aurelius]

Nebraska sandbox has had to put up with me for the most part.

[Unique_Carpenter]

I've noticed. But, perhaps all mind MsElena, so they do put up with you.

[Marcus Aurelius]

Actually I don't think she cares for me that much.

[essence]

Artists do not feel any more intensely than others; they are merely more able to express those feelings.

[Kimora Secret]

dance til the morning

[Unique_Carpenter]

Originally Posted by Kimora Secret

dance til the morning

with a friend, then dance some more.