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| Muse...(Pastels on paper) |
autocratic and greedy. Robbing
hours from glorious mid-mornings to
romantic nights, day after day!
The less fancy muse consorts
an a-social, eccentric bard.
But I can ill-afford either.
So a carefree giggle, an unshed tear;
a news-paper tidbit, a curious gesture
stealthily snuggle into my grey cells.
Tether in remote niches as neuronal connections,
hibernating as restless vesicles of chemical neuro-transmitters.
And then tumble out during stolen hours
of my time-strapped life-at midnight or at day break...
On to the nascent paper or the computer screen
Even as the muse plays truant
with a million other writers!
The muse is a coquettish spider,
weaving that gossamer web;
delights in snaring writers in blocks
time and again.
But no, not me.
We live exclusive lives.
I’m free. She begs for my summons.
As I romance papers, pens, colors and the WWW,
I put that spider out into a no-exit maze!
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