I decided that this little space on my blog needs to make room for all of my muses, not just the ones that are about writing.  Now when you come here, you will see examples of all the different areas of my life that are touched by the muse.

 

 

 

Walk the Path
Walk with me through landscapes painted in vivid words.  Follow me along the path through the pages of the mind.  Escape to the world of waking dreams and float along with the current in the river of creative expression.  Find your truth cloaked in the fantasy.

 

 

The Green Woman

I am the Green Woman of the Earth.

In my face, the ever changing cycle of the seasons is reflected.

In the Spring, my hair is the color of new leaves, my face, the color of the daffodil.

As the rains come, I grow tall and vibrant, stretching towards the warmth of the sun.

Summer is the time of full glory.

I am fully grown, my slender body is now full with life.

My hair is of flowers and birds and dragonflies, my eyes the color of the clouds drifting in the sky.

The colors of life become vibrant in my face as Autumn arrives.

I am older and wiser now.

The world around me is ripe with change, as am I.

My hair has become russet and gold like the landscape, my eyes, the ripening wheat in the field, my cheeks rosy as the apple.

Everything becomes clearer as the world begins to slow down.

I watch as the world prepares for the long rest.

The animals in the forest have gotten their warm coats and the birds have flown south.

Winter has come.

My hair is barren like the branches of the old Oak, my face worn like the trunk.

I am tired from the long year, happy to have lived and experienced it.

My skin is the color of the new fallen snow as I begin to dream.

My body looks as though all the life has drained from me, but do not mourn.

The essence of my life is buried deep inside, safe from the bitter cold.

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I was always told…

I was always told that what I said had meaning.
I was always told to tell the truth.
I was always told that if I said “NO” that it was rape.
Well, I said no and he still pushed.
I was afraid. I liked this guy.
I still said “No”.
He still said “Yes. Come on.”
I didn’t push him away.
I didn’t scream.
I just said “No”.
He didn’t stop.
But I didn’t push him away.
But I didn’t scream.
I let him keep saying “yes”.
He was gentle.
He was sweet.
I still said “No”.
He still said “Yes”.
When it was done, I felt dirty.
He was smiling and asked if I enjoyed it as much as he did.
I lied and said “Yes”.
He left with a kiss and a promise to call me later.
I was quiet in my thoughts of guilt.
I didn’t push. I didn’t scream.
It couldn’t be rape.
I was strong. I was independent.
I couldn’t be weak. I wasn’t a victim. I wasn’t raped.
I didn’t push. I didn’t scream. I let him in.
I tried to ask for help.
I was told I led him on.
I did something wrong.
I didn’t push. I didn’t scream. I let him.
It was my fault. It wasn’t really rape.
But I said “No”.
I was always told that if I said “NO” that it was rape.