I sit in the corner,
Drawing blanks and thanks,
Among brushes so loaded with hues.
I whisper the answer
To an invalid dancer who's strokes
Are ill-peppered with clues.
Reflections are daggers,
And purgings are spanners.
Too sharp or too dull for a muse.
Blue Phoenix reports
In that lackluster court,
"This defendant has no pleading to choose."
Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 11:05 PM UTC
I sit in the corner,
Drawing blanks and thanks,
Among brushes so loaded with hues.
I whisper the answer
To an invalid dancer who's strokes
Are ill-peppered with clues.
Reflections are daggers,
And purgings are spanners.
Too sharp or too dull for a muse.
Blue Phoenix reports
In that lackluster court,
"This defendant has no pleading to choose."
p.s.
Blue Phoenix is this mixologist's concoction of
blue curacao, gin and rum(whatever my cupboards bore)
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