smelling of dark violets, messy hair leans over my shoulder
hand-knotting threads, tumbling unkempt, wayward as she
whose red lips startles me, whose eyes look eerily familiar, i
wait for her to drawl or holler at me her moon-kept secrets
but she is silent, leaves me empty pages & pink crumbs of doubts
come dawn, she nudges me, to walk outside & breathe in the rain, i
do, inhaling tendril of knotweeds, lace puff of wild carrots, seeds
of myself
Wild Carrot & Grape Leaves
@EverydayAmazing
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Who's Your Muse by host Ingrid of Experiements in Fiction. My own personal muse(s) have been changing over time but I guess it is part of my journey. Thank you for your visits.
Ah, this is so lovely! I adored these lines especially:
ReplyDelete"whose red lips startles me, whose eyes look eerily familiar, i
wait for her to drawl or holler at me her moon-kept secrets
but she is silent..."
It's very vibrant too.
'seeds
ReplyDeleteof myself' - an apt description for the Muse's sowing! I love your description of this dark character entwined with Nature who teases until morning...
So, so gorgeous, Grace.
ReplyDeleteLove these:
“she nudges me, to walk outside & breathe in the rain, i
do, inhaling tendril of knotweeds, lace puff of wild carrots, seeds
of myself”
“smelling of dark violets, messy hair”
Blogger ate my comment lunch ... If muses are mirrors, how can they not change as we deepen into our work? I love the moist anima-breath here, so close to the poet's own, accompanying the lesson. - B
ReplyDelete"seeds
ReplyDeleteof myself."
Well this is just a fine evocation of the Muse!
ReplyDeleteNicely done! A muse with moon-kept secrets is not my help. Love the pink crumbs of doubt...
ReplyDeleteVery lovely, Grace.
ReplyDeleteYou've made me curious! Why are the crumbs of doubts pink? Do they also come in other colors? :)
Yours,
David
"...i
ReplyDeletewait for her to drawl or holler at me her moon-kept secrets
but she is silent,..."
She gives and withholds at her whim is so true. I loved that line.
Me .. Myself .. I. Grace, you are a Muse among muses.
ReplyDeleteI'm only guessing that the muse is your daughter, but whomever she is I love her delicate influence on you. Beautiful poem, Grace.
ReplyDeleteI love moon kept secrets and seeds of myself.
ReplyDelete"empty pages & pink crumbs of doubts "
ReplyDeleteMy favourite images
Much💜love
It is a part of the journey...love it.
ReplyDelete"empty pages & pink crumbs of doubts"
ReplyDeleteLove this poem, Grace!
ooohooo. the pink crumb of doubts. <3 this is so good. and then the calming ending. seeds of myself. how good.
ReplyDelete