Letters and Roses

The Seth Thomas mantel clock with its eternally prancing, bronze equine cap bonged the first hour of the day and reminded me there was nothing left for my brain, but sleep.

I turned off the computer, lifted my body from the overworked chair, and dragged the few feet to the light switch—only to see the muse in her flowing gown smiling back at me from the blank message board on the wall.

I had no choice but to rub a hand across the glistening white surface and smile back at her, mesmerizing creature that she is. “What can I do for you?”

She winked.

“Oh no! No winking!”

My eyes widened and cleared in spite of my objections, sleep now banished to a later time.

“Have some flowers my enchanting one!”

A lavender marker began to scrawl across the board.

The muse impishly refused to leave while I worked, but dodged the marker, peering at my progress through looping letters as they formed. Done, I stood back to view the results, and found:

Letters and Roses

For love of a word
A poem is born—
A passion is freed
To present
A rose of vibrant hue
With delicate petals
To caress your skin
As its scent
Transports your soul

She gazed at me from beneath the words, smiled a sleepy goodbye and left.

“Thank you for that,” I whispered, and flicked off the light.

Copyright 2007 Jim Ross