from the well of my spirit
you stir blood into singing
Hmm. Visions, a well (cauldron, maybe?), stirring blood. A bit MacBethian of you, perhaps. Quite appeals to my Scottish blood.
Thanks, George–these were the lines that came to me right before sleep last night–the ones I scrawled and was pleased to find I could actually read this morning! Ohhh–my mother was Scot-Irish-French with a smattering of other things, so maybe that is where it came from***smiles***
A classic feel to this one…I love poems like this
Boomie–thank you. I liked the lines so much, I really didn’t complain too much about sitting up in bed to jot them down 😉
Thanks, Nelle–this was the little poem that sparked the not-quite complaining one about my muse’s timing…
I get your feel 🙂
Thanks, Ken–there I was, right about to fall asleep, and this plopped into my head, fully formed 🙂
…have to love it when one’s muse decides to praise itself.
Muses are very demanding and they know how to lure you out of the bed 🙂
Yes, they do. Of course, I am not complaining…much 😉
love this little muse piece:) but why no like button here? or is it just on my end?
Hi Don–no, not just your end–I disabled it because I don’t keep track of those 😉
Glad you liked the piece!
Simple and yet powerful
I really digging the micropoetry I have been reading today.. LIKE
Oh, thanks, m’dear. I sat up in the middle of the night to write this, glasses off, scrawling by the light of the alarm clock 😉
I was thrilled to be able to read my own writing the next morning!
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