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Never allowed to grow
Beyond ornamental,
Small perfect leaves
On small well pruned branches;
To please the eye
Of miniature torturers.


Cramped in a micro life,
Roots restrained
Within un-natural boundaries.
The promise of a tree
Never really fulfilled,
Beyond a whisper.


Fussed over relentlessly,
Like an O.C.D.
Perfect shape and form,
Trained from natural beauty,
To sit on a shelf
Hidden from reality.
.....a day's, or a night's inspiration
just walks away
and escapes my mental grasp
an idea, pregnant with possibilities,
suddenly becomes infertile, like
a barren woman, or a wasteland
i try to get hold of it,
still...it glides away, falling along the
edges of my imagination.
i am bereft,
when my muse has left.
::::::::::::::

sometimes,
i eagerly dip, and wiggle my toes
on a sunny blue river that
manifests itself in my mind,
bursting with promises of new insights...
yet, a slightly curving path is hard to ignore
for, it easily presents itself......and
sometimes,
i give in to its swirls of unfulfilled
dreams, and....sublime moments,
hovering, like a hummingbird
quivering...in my own space,
there in neverlandia, where i'm left
pondering, about a life......unlived.
:::::::::::::::
my toe-dipping moments,
my rare moments of serenity,
are short-lived........ruffled,
besieged by old shadows,
because....phantoms of fear
refuse to die.
::::::::::::::::::::::

sometimes,
when treading this curved path,
unwanted, unexpected
circumstances occur,
and, all of a sudden,
my muse emerges from hiding.
inspirations bloom,
like mushrooms,
bolder,
than those that elude(d) me.
:::::::::::::::::::::::

sometimes,
it takes a while,
for love and life
to rhyme.
::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright February 10, 2018
rrab



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