Her Delight

I had a brief visit from my muse tonight, and she’s left me this little piece. It’s somewhat abstract, and yet again I don’t think I’ve captured the images she attempted to convey, but I hope you like it.

She paints the roses, not for love,
But for the very reason that
The colors scattered here about
Are not to her delight.

She warms the rain drops, as they fall,
And for the very reason that
A shower in a cooling fall
Is not to her delight.

She parts the clouds in thundered sky,
Just for the very reason that
The sunlight gone from silken skin
Is not to her delight.

She paints the river, not for art,
But for the very reason that
The water flowing far away
Is not to her delight.

She takes the world, all for her own
And for the very reason that
She’ll keep it hidden in her heart
Just for her own delight.

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3 Responses to Her Delight

  1. fibee5 says:

    loved this, the idea of her doing it for own delight 🙂 loved the use of repetition 🙂

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