Blue muse

Heart blue
Sand swept covers
Like words of pages
Torn from a book
Strewn about
Falling through the air
Rustle of paper
Covering what was never spoken.
Azure skies empty
Devoid of a bird
Of life it seems,
Yet stirring the mind
Thoughts stewing
Creative juice flows
Yet slow like honey poured
Out of comb to the waiting garden below.
I think of far off places
Seeing the table in Tuscany,
The small cafe,
Sipping wine with fine cheese
And crusty bread,
And just talking
Just being.
Mind gifts
Like treasured stone hearts,
Gifts of the muse
Beside the bowl of sand,
Alter of elements
Producer of visions,
Held in the hand
Blue shape of love.
I am gone for moments
Drifting of to somewhere
No notice given
Just gone
And I return with a quiet joy
For I went to the place of dreams,
Of words that are spoken
To the empty room and barren walls.
Words that are written
Moving faster than fingers they come,
And oh the wonder of it,
The mind,
The seepage of vision,
The pouring forth
Of the muse of an eternal mind,
The faucet with no handle
The stream that cannot be stopped.

Lovely thoughts came flying to meet me like birds. They weren’t my thoughts. I couldn’t think anything half so exquisite. They came from somewhere.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Emily Climbs

For love of luna

Gliding into view
Peeking through
Chantilly lace clouds,
Luna sweet luna
You sing your tune
Smooth like a river
I move along on your reflection
Entranced by your cosmic glow.
How can one so love
The image of you
Lost in your cold white splendor
Mesmerized by your shy
Peek-a-boo games,
You sprinkle my stars
Sweet fairy dust floating
Surround you like a cloak of diamonds,
They too must be in love
With your beguiling self,
They too must be jealous of
Your grand light.

Jeweled thoughts

In dreams
Tiny pieces shine
Standing out
Like jewels
Sun sparkling
Off of priceless thoughts.
Strung together
River runs down to connect
One stream to the next
Where emerald grass
Sits idly by the bank
And blowing gently.
Necklace lies on porcelain skin
Blanket of wealth
Your laugh sparkling
Champagne sweet
Hand cut images impact
The beggar at the ball
Watching with envy
Green eyed
Ugliness protrudes
To steal the prize.
My jeweled dreamscape interrupted
By the beauty of Luna
Wake she implores
See me
Come and play
Two am and thinking it is 8
Light so bright catching me off guard
Waving her off
Closing my eyes
Returning to the party
On the river of emeralds
The masquerade ball
Of sleep.

Thoughts on strange dreams of a ball, emeralds, rivers and banks, sleep stolen from the moon tricking me into thinking it was time to get up as it was light out like morning.