Another Day … Another Attempt

So, why is it that the prettiest or the most meaningful or the deeply profound subjects are the most difficult to express? It would seem as if those soul-important events would arrive with an abundance of language all their own.

Well, that is not always true. Yesterday’s poem is a fine case of a perfectly lovely visual event that squirms and dances and slides away from description. I have tweaked and shifted, altered and walked away from it – all to no avail.

It’s just not right.

So here is an attempt at a poem that is written without thought … just words on paper as I drink my coffee and watch the day begin.

Time

Gray halfhearted rain

Schedule drenched with demands

Dripping magnolias

 

Hmmm, here’s another:

My Mother’s Garden

Glowing white blossoms

Dreaming eyes never seeing

Open for the moon

 

So – there you have it.

And now I am walking away from my desk and making every attempt to quiet the words and phrases and snippets of characters’ conversations that fill my under-caffeinated brain.

Until tomorrow!

 

 

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