Sunday, November 9, 2014

A small sketch of a girl and her horse

A small spurt of inspiration
These images seem to slide 
Across my vision, insisting that they can be seen
... and no longer ignored

In the middle of the mundane
I see the shapes forming
The essence of the message floats into 
My mind

My hand must obey and outline
The idea I can feel. 
It is insistent
That it be captured

So I grab the closest implement
A blunt charcoal pencil
The back of a discarded piece of paper

And they appear.
The girl and her horse
Quickly, with little effort
Sharing a moment
On a dark night under a crescent moon

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