Thursday, June 27, 2013

The poet’s guess


Where muse undressed
on careworn steps

the poet’s guess
is sweet alyssum



4 comments:

Jan said...

When I worry I cannot seem to hide my thoughts. I feel and look so much older, too.

Usually I will then go for a walk in my woods to be among nature where her scents and sounds are pure poetry and a release for my pent-up emotions.

These are the thoughts that ran through my mind when I read your lovely words.

William Michaelian said...

You’re wise to trust your instinct, Jan, by yielding to nature’s magic and charm. I’m glad these few words reminded you of that source of strength and refuge, which you already know.

Ed Baker said...

nothing quite like that muse.... any muse un-
dressing
when and where
it ever opens things up:

sweetly.

my last "muse" got pissed-off when I said tha she was my one-true-muse...

she replied

"So , I amuse you ?"

then she huffed off and married a dentist.

she was 34.
I was 70.

go figure, eh ?

but I did get 4 books and 367 drawings/paintings out of The Relationship.

William Michaelian said...

It’s a slow day here, too.

It must be something we ate, or dreamed, or drank.