She wakes tangled in themes
through a cobweb of dreams
with gossamer remnants
that linger and tease,
pushes back dusty curtains
and on a page blank and white
she writes.
She deletes the clichéd
yesterday she okayed
and contemplates words
like ephemeral and moonglade
they taste like confections
with her tangerine sections
and jolts of black coffee
she writes.
She’s reminded of chores
she keeps trying to ignore
with the scatter of crumbs
that litter the floor,
shrugs her shoulders and thinks
it will be there tomorrow
she writes.
The bills wait, unpaid
And the bed’s still not made
There’s this blog post to write
and it can’t be delayed
her novel must wait
it’s a musing or rhyme that
she writes.
She reaches again
for the manuscript when
her mind can’t break free
from the plot line within
and it makes him uptight
there’s no dinner tonight
but he digests her flaws.
After all, it’s because
she writes.
She is a wordsmith who delights when she writes. Beautiful flowing piece with depth and melody I really loved seeing this side to you Jennifer thank you for sharing.
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Thank you, Kath. This is high praise coming from you and some others here. When excellent writers like my writing, I am beyond grateful and flattered. x
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Awesome, Jennifer. Your combination of imagery, word choice, rhythm, rhyme, meter and repetition (form) are excellent. Speaks VOLUMES to me!!!
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Thank you so much, Susan! I had a bit of fun writing it. Happy you stopped by today, it means a lot. 🙂
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Beautiful and true.
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Thank you, Kelly. I’m sure you and many others can relate. 🙂
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Did you come over to my house and watch through the window?
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Ha, ha! You have a crumby floor too? And nothing for dinner? 🙂 Guess there’s lots around like me, who’d rather write than do housework!
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Absolutely! 🙂
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I love this! A glimpse into your thoughts… ❤
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Yep…the good and the bad. 😉
Thanks, Diana. x
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I Love it.
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Thank you, Alice. 🙂 And thanks for stopping by again!
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