she casts her pencil like a wand as magic soaks into the page her flannel cascades around her work, shielding it from curious eyes she tilts her head to listen to the lecture, but her heart is elsewhere running through castles and stumbling through candle lit streets colors tangle to mirror the expanse of her dreams she shares her soul with every meticulous stroke each face blessed by her style but never the same when she designs she never aims for perfection for she knows perfect is just a fancy way of saying flawed she erases and redraws as if her art could never satisfy her desires it can always be better but it is never good enough if only she knew I meant it when I told her I loved her drawing her art speaks to me like Mona Lisa never could

I love you
said her fiance
I'll cuff you too
his future wife said

30/10/2024

Dear Dairy,

I know it's been a while.
I am so sorry.
I gave up.
I lost it all.
But we have two months of this year left.
Help me to pick up the pieces, one by one.

Colour is dangerous;
you fall into it.

And colour can swallow you,
and like music it is super emotional.

It is hard to stay distant.

Fold me like you always have,
Run your nails to set the creases,
Shape me to the form you crave,
Bend me into the art of your wishes,

My form forever yours to toy with,
I conform to your will and desire,
Expose my surfaces, above or beneath,
I will always be there for you to admire,

I can be flexible or I can be stiff,
That depends on what you want,
I am here to help fill your rift,
The one who says you can when you can’t,

Craft that which you seek of me,
I am but your art, your origami.

Remnants of Helene are in the Northeast with gray skies and rain
September is saying farewell
Poet’s walk must continue
Until she came upon an imperfectly placed artwork by her feet
Mother Nature’s wonder
Amber
Canary
Honey
Sunshine
Biscotti
Sepia
Fawn
Ruby
Burgundy
Cherry
Currant
Rose
M­ixed in with good measure
Splendidly arranged in Mother Nature’s Mosaic