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only dust, my muse
by Mary Ellen Smithneglected for too long
he is asleep.
He lies there
alone, in the dark
gathering dust.
a spider has had her way.
I try to read what she has written in the web.
it looks like
"Fantastic Muse"
I could shake him awake.
He is an old rag doll
with button eyes.
or a long forgotten
fuzzy teddy.
I look around the attic
of my mind.
He is an old children's book
found on a dusty shelf.
I turn to the last page.
closing the book,
a foggy cloud billows up
like a thought that may come to life.
only dust, my muse, only dust.
09/30/2013 Author's Note: blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Posted on 09/30/2013
Copyright © 2025 Mary Ellen Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 09/30/13 at 06:11 PM thought this was brilliant, exactly how my mind feels some days. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/30/13 at 09:08 PM I liked. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/01/13 at 07:14 PM I really enjoyed the dark and web used in this - somehow fits the season. The writing in the web is very clever. Obviously you have begun to work around this lazy fellow. Thanks for this. |
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