A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)



A-muse-d She may be

Each day, when I so

Desperately seek her out.

She smiles, at the nick of time.

Graciously lets me swagger

(in the belief I masterminded them)

In the surfeit of words she shares.

She brings Magic, she does.

Even I, in my arrogance,

Must admit.

The kind that stretches

Beyond imagination;

Past spells cast to

Invoke, evoke, rebuke, choke…

She stays, companionably,

Inclining her sagacious head

Watching me chisel and hone a notion.

I might not acknowledge her,

Yet she lingers, a sheen in her  gentle eyes

That you could mistake for moisture.

Happy? Pride? The ramble

Exceeds expectation?

Maybe the cold shoulder I give

Could be it, too.

How she waits, so patient…

But the walls are up

And the gates are locked…


Till that desperate cry, for help

Leaks out, faintly.

She fixes her smile,

Waits upon the whims

And allows the rambler

To think she, herself, is the Muse.

13 April, 2018, Day#13 of #NaPoWriMo, 2018











Of empty barrels

And pots to fill

That’s what she

Thought, it was all about –

And readily offered

To be so inundated:

Fact, fiction,

They soon merged;

Language and thought

So much to touch!

But they didn’t say

That barrels emptied

Or pots, yet hollow,

If they so remained,

Sometimes surging, welling,

Other-times, upturned, cleared out –

Was all that mattered.

Lessons weren’t to be

Stored: airtight.

Dank, dour, dark.





12 April, 2018, Day#12 of #NaPoWriMo – it’s getting to a challenge now 😀 The muse, the words, they linger longer at the threshold of recognition, not fain to enter when asked 😀