She looks down at the empty page 
Something is on her mind 
A plot, a verse for better or worse 
For the rest, a pithy line 

But nothing stirs into rank and file 
For her to string together 
The words and phrases spin like crazy 
She just can’t find the tether 

“I looked at him in puzzlement…”
No today she couldn’t go there 
“She sat serene and beautiful
With a magnolia in her hair…”

She felt herself choke a little 
She couldn’t walk there either 
In sepia-toned dreams is where
She felt happiest seeing her 

A cup of tea, a pastry 
That sublime combination
Surely she could muster up 
Something for that occasion 

But her thoughts were far away 
They were looking at something else 
The woman poised upon her page 
Needed healing herself 

So they had set up a little storm 
In the space of her tearing mind 
Whirling, swirling round and round 
Until the pain was left behind 

Then to her blue-stung heart they went 
To gently numb the precious space
Odes to life’s ripple and swell 
Could wait for another day.