Friday, May 13, 2011


Hop into my virtual time machine and travel back with me to 1951, well before
The Muse became The Muse. In those days she had a penchant for free verse as can be seen in this group of


A capricious young spring rain,
Intent on showering me
With a multitude of soft wet kisses
Met me at the doorway.

The lake,
Face wrinkled
With ripples of running
And rings of rain,
Greenly grimaced it way
To the grey gorge.

The landscape of dull colors:
Dull grey,
Dull green,
Dull dullness,
Sat mutely,
Ignoring all.

The wind played desultorily
With the grey branched trees
And idly stirred the lake
With a breath.

The sky stayed gloomily aloof,
A monochrome
Of no particular hue:
Still, silent and far.


Blogger Sherrie Spangler said...

These are wonderful. Where were you when you wrote them?

9:45 PM  
Blogger Quiltmuse said...

I was in college, Cornell University in Ithaca, NY and they were written from my favorite hangout, the Johnny Parson Club, overlooking Beebe Lake.

5:00 AM  

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