DREAMSCAPES

 

At the center the Minotaur

waits for me

the winding maze is

my wandering mind

I lost the track of the thread

spun by Ariadne's 

ball of twine

*

A woman in a moon-glossed coif

pours blue milk

into a Dutch oven.

She smiles at me

still struggling at stool

to feed verses into

my tablet.

Suddenly the woman

 flew away

like a moth

*

'Non serviam'-said Satan

to God

'No serviam"-says the Muses

to me every morning

at stool        just about

to be inspired

to be poet

to be

*

At stool

I dreamt of Tizian 

painting you 

with his fingertips

using all the colour-hues

conjured up

 by my words

*

Strolling about the Heath

-as was my wont-

Star-addicted and mud-ridden

all coalesced 

in the pool of clarity

today

nothing is out

of kilter

of me