Friday Poem:Sorry, Muse

I’m away from home, spending time with my little granddaughter and her mum and dad. I’m busy doing “nothing”, keeping company with a toddler obsessed with Thomas the Tank and his friends. Poetry has taken a seat at the back of the bus (Bertie, to his friends), and yet…thinking about neglecting my Muse somehow seeded a poem….IMG_8358edit2I’m so sorry My Muse
I don’t mean to avoid you
I garner a few lines
And they vanish on the breeze
Like dandelion clocks
Scattering at a puff.

O My Muse
I am as vacant and empty
as a ploughed field
I am waiting for
wind-blown seeds
I am waiting for
Refreshing showers
I am waiting for you
Sweet Muse
to send down roots
and uncoil shoots
And bring me poems.IMG_2799 (Medium)

I had some fun looking for photos that would go with the words (the toddler is napping at present). The void is not highly regarded in Western culture, and yet emptiness is necessary before something new can come in and grow. Maybe I should be thanking my Muse for the blankness of my poetic sheet, not apologising…what do you think?IMG_7956 (Large)crop

The third photo is a detail of a lampshade I made from wire and eucalypt-dyed tulle and thin silk.

I feel like I should add a pic of Juni and her trains, just for the record. I’ve taken so many!IMG_8308edit