This is the second day of being in my apartment due to the winter storm we had recently and, rather than sit on the couch and watch movies, I dove into my new manuscript of which has no title. While writing a conversation between the main female character, Frances Lavender, with her mother Eleanor, My Muse began to dance around the apartment dressed in a Victorian mourning dress while playing the violin and out came this piece from my brain. I have no idea what to do with it, so I figured I would post it and see what you guys thought.
Oh yeah, this is also my 500th blog post!! Yowza!
Anyway, enjoy ~
(Eternal Depths - ViridianGirl Photos - copyright 2014)
Gracefully upon the word sea, the figure dances.
Darling sailor, come closer and see, see,
what the sea of ink that came from squid
shall tell me today.
Shall it be a song of loss, or perhaps a story of revenge?
Give me your ears, darling sailor, and listen to the winds
that carry such sweet smells that are old and forgotten by those
who refuse to see with eyes covered with metal.
Darling sailor, read to me, read to me
what the word sea says.
I place my hand into the ink that flows
so slowly and pull out a single word -
Love. Grace. Delight. Pain. Anguish. History. Salt.
Darling sailor, take care upon the ink of squid
that festers and boils when not used by silver tongues.
Slip downward into the murk and free, free me,
here in the prison that no one can see.
Do you not hear my pleas, darling sailor?
Upon the word sea is death, a sucking sound of taking within
that which is never used, that which is overlooked.
Gracefully, gracefully, upon the word sea
tell me a story, darling sailor, and let it be free.