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theSOURCE

She Writes

9 posts in this topic

She Writes

 

She writes.

From her mind and from her spirit

Her verses flow like wine

Bittersweet and delicious.

With a gentle touch

She holds my hand as she holds my interest

Leading me into sleep

Carrying me into dreams.

She sees.

Whatever darkness lurks in my soul

And whatever spills from my broken mind

Only she can see who I once was.

Please indulge me.

Compose a poem and tell me

Everything I already know

And all that I've been missing.

She knows.

Tomorrow won't be the same as today

But the change will be welcomed

With a new verse and a new smile.

Write for me once more.

Let your words pour from you

In the way that only you can do

And write my life happy again.

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Wow.....beautiful :) Lucky lady!

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Sounds like quite a muse!

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Excellent poem, I like the construction....

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Thanks SW. It always amuses me how a poem or story idea pops into my head simply by chatting with someone. :D

Schizzy, her poetry is so unique that I'm sure if I attempted to write like her I'd fail miserably. :hmm:

Thanks Cloudshill. I'm more comfortable writing stories than poetry so I never how my poems will turn out. :unsure2:

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Thank you more The Source :) :)

Here is my reply....

This is the muse

that kisses in the morning

once she's alive.

**

Happiness,

she wasn't hiding

but questioned,

so she posed against

the blackest night

in a slight curve.

She twisted and turned

so that you could never rest.

She worked on your nerves

so that you would keep on pressing.

I imagine her

being drawn into you

like one of your sketches,

standing beneath a lamp

in your most private room,

handing you colors

and coloring you.

With patient expectation

and fumbling fingers

you make the strokes

that detail her smile.

And the eyes!

What time you spend on them!

As if each reflection

were their own eternity,

each lash, a lyric to a love song,

each brilliant fleck

given the effect to widen up

enough to step inside.

She knows

that you've picked out her thoughts

by dividing the wind

from the whispers she sends.

When her face becomes clear

don't be surprised.

**

Edited by SpiritWriter
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Really beautiful SOURCE.

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Thank you SpiritWriter. That was a pleasant surprise and a lovely poem. For a moment, when I started to hear one verse after another I thought I was in the wrong thread.

The imagery took me back to when I was able to paint with oils. I miss those days very much.

Thank you for awakening that memory.

Edited by theSOURCE
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Thank you Misty. I do try.

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