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Conversation with my muse. Conversation with my muse.
by Mary Ellen SmithHe has poked his bobbly little red head into my room this night.
That secret little smile is back.
The one that turns his lips up just so and
seems to connect the freckles across his cheeks.
Tic tac toe. Three in a row.
I havent forgotten that I am still angry with him.
Sigh.
I realize that I am glad to see him.
It is raining outside and I have tired of running after him.
I shrug in defeat and wave him in for a bit of conversation.
In the light of the fire I study his face.
A rare opportunity because he never sits in one place for long.
Friends? I ask.
Friends? He replies.
Rainy night. I am glad you came in to dry off.
Rainy night. I am glad you came in to dry off. He mimics.
Stop saying everything that I say. My face reddening.
Stop saying everything that I say. He says grinning.
Stop it or Ill tell! I whine.
Stop it or Ill tell! He mimics, whining.
I wish my mom was here.
02/26/2003 Author's Note: MaaaaUmmmmm....make him stop saying everything that I am saying......
MaaaaUmmmmm....make him stop saying everything that I am saying......
Posted on 02/26/2003
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by JD Clay on 02/26/03 at 01:36 PM Bravo!!! I love you insight and perspective on this elusive subject, while striking a chord that our muse is truly connected to our inner child.
Peace... |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/26/03 at 03:31 PM Reading this was worth a laugh out loud! Delightfully humorous! Great fun! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/26/03 at 05:59 PM LOL! Cute but also serious. Is this a repost? Sounds really familiar, but there again could just be my deja vu playing tricks with me. :o) |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 02/27/03 at 02:46 AM Funtastic Mary, Funtastic Mary. Fun to read, fun
to read....Charlie....Charlie |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 02/27/03 at 10:40 PM Very enjoyable read:) |
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