Whispering Muse
Poetry – Tendrils in the mind
Poetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared and forever all your own. ~Dylan Thomas
Whispering Muse
Whispers tickle my mind
softly encoaching like a vine
“Hush,” I say
No story today
The curling tendrils
pose another line
And before I sleep
I’ve envisioned the rest
And beg the whispers
To be my guest
____________________________
My Monday Self – Woe is me
M is for moody — don’t talk to me
O is for onliest — just let me be
N is for nothing — I want to see
D is for dingy — the color of my tea
A is for acceptance — hear my plea
Y is for yesterday’s — possibilities
About the Creator
Lynda Coker
Grab a chair, turn a page, and read a while with me. I promise to tap lightly on my keyboard so we both can stay immersed in our world of words.
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