Day 25 of napowrimo and it’s the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads.
Greetings to all poets, visitors, friends! And so we have come to the last Tuesday of poetry writing month. It has been a CHALLENGE for those who are attempting to complete 30 poems in 30 days. It has also been a celebration of our community of poets – we are so often too busy to make the effort to write on a regular basis (and I count myself in this number) but this one month of the year allows us to come together both to inspire and support the art which all of us holds so dear.
While this platform remains open to any poem you wish to share, I offer a tiny picture prompt for those who may be running out of ideas, and are looking for a spark to ignite the thought process.
The artist I am featuring today is Agnes Lawrence Pelton (1881–1961). To visit the WikiArt gallery of some of her paintings, click HERE.
Memory: Agnes Lawrence Pelton Fair Use
as sleep fell heavy
on my eyes
words began to fade
into view
‘pen me’
my mind knew
it was now
i should reach
for paper and pencil
but the desk was
four steps away
and sleep had me
lulled in her
tender embrace
cocooned
surrender inevitable
and those words
became thin ghosts
silent echoes
in a void
there
but not
one pebble
upon the shore
much like
all the others
except
it called to me
i remember that
and now it lies
hidden in plain view
muted
napowrimo 25/30(1)
thin ghosts
silent echoes
in a void… can see that happening… just there, the perfect words, but out of reach!
Sleep is a distant beach, our dreams and poems pebbles on that beach, waiting to be picked up.
or misplaced 😉
True.
Those four steps are as vast as the universe when Lady Sleep is doing her things. And so much is lost in that space, so many ghosts bred.
I like the idea of words becoming ‘thin ghosts’ and ‘silent echoes’ .. all the more reason for us to hold on to them! 🙂
…became thin ghosts That has happened to me – a vague inspirational idea – dreamlike – and I lose the edge of it, the “secret” of it….
Keep the notepad by the bed is my learning.
I can relate – this has happened to me many times. I like the way you captured the feeling f the fading words in the dwindling lines.
Ah, I’ve had this happen so many times!
Like the format.It enhances the reading. Four steps equals four miles in a situation like that.
Ah that beautiful pull of drifting into sleep… Tis a thing of comfy armchairs and it annoys me that that same beautiful thing never happens when I go to bed!
Anna :o]
Maybe sleep in a chair then? 😉
I have done that when just so damn comfy I didn’t want to move – but I wake up with mega stiff hips…one of the joys of the ageing process I guess…
Anna :o]
Maybe a giant chair shaped bed?
I used to keep a notebook by my bed so if any poetry came in the drowsy hours, I could record it. It didn’t work. 🙂
Lol….the lost poem society.
Good intentions don’t a poem write
Stay awake or write it down, my thought
I used to keep a pad and pen bedside and occasionally jotted something down. But never did it become a poem or blog post. I still have file folders full of ideas, every now and then I run across one.
You?
….
oh I scribble everywhere but in my sleep.
oooh. that think ghosts part. love this, Paul!