Painting is poetry

that is seen

rather than felt,

and poetry is painting

that is felt

rather than seen.”


― Leonardo da Vinci


As the man waited for his muse to arise

he sat at his desk and contemplated his feelings.

I am happy to be breathing he surmised

what other emotions can be so revealing


So let us shoot for the stars, let us be exuberant

could have, should have and would have are too depressing

let the spirits arise, let us opine to be more jubilant

find the soul that smiles a lot and to them be acquiescing


The muse was so enraptured with the glee

the words poured forth like a babbling brook

no chains, no fetters just wind blown and free

everything rhymed and chimed, even the gobbledygook


An attitude of gratitude arose in the writer

He knew that mirth is the gleam in God’s eye

his soul was unburden and it became lighter

knowing that happiness and love can fill the sky


The words will end, but the feeling must last

so he used his rhyme to paint the merry festival

surprised to learn that happy can be both present and past,

feelings and thoughts that can celebrate the fanciful


The muse is within all of us, be happy my friend

the glad feelings and thoughts must never end …



ME and the Boss







About merb010

Spring Hill, FL, United States Two nice old folks just hanging out, not hurting a bug or anything larger. The years have been kind to us and we now we are enjoying our golden years reading and writing. We are grateful for the God given talents that we now use to help others. View all posts by merb010

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