a muse sings
she arrives, unannounced
in a ticker tape rain parade.
breathtaking. mind blowing. bubbles
greet her in huddled masses.
She winks her approval
and speaks volumes,
in a sing-song voice, knowing
full well, words smear
when wet, and liquid memories
evaporate.
Oh Calliope-WHY
must you present your infant lovingly
when you see a glint in my eye,
only to whisk her away before I can
wrap my arms around her?
round and down she goes
round, down into the eye of the hurricane–
see foam returning to the well,
holding captive the remains of the day
and, always the loving mother,
you chase her, with a bow and a whoosh–
so proud of your clever game.
well, I don’t find it so….
a musing, in the shower.
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May 30, 2009 at 9:44 pm
Ah, yes, water does spark the imagination so!
May 30, 2009 at 10:51 pm
Apparently shampoo helps as well;)
June 1, 2009 at 8:27 am
Very nice. I love how you got so much from a simple action.
June 1, 2009 at 1:30 pm
Thank you, and nice to see you here:)
June 4, 2009 at 8:26 am
words smear
when wet, and liquid memories
evaporate.
Inspiration
leaves our poetess writing
in condensation
This is a very clever poem! I love it. Makes me feel so happy to know that I am not alone i n my efforts to write down my thoughts no matter where I am! 🙂
June 7, 2009 at 9:34 pm
Yes, writing words on the fogged mirror;)
June 4, 2009 at 8:51 am
This made me chuckle to see it again. I love “WHY” in capitals, and the lines:
round and down she goes
round, down into the eye of the hurricane–
for the water going down the plughole, and the fact that you don’t get it until the “a musing” ending.
June 7, 2009 at 9:32 pm
Thanks Helen. I find myself asking WHY daily. Impish muse;)
July 12, 2009 at 8:57 am
Loved it! I interpret it differently — the infant represents Calliope’s artistry she is giving to you…
She’s a fickle little muse, isn’t she?
July 12, 2009 at 10:30 am
Indeed she is!