Hello darlings! I've been
thinking about Emma all day today. Emma is one of my alter-ego's.
She is my most spiritual, ethereal, artsy side. She is in love with
life and in love with beauty. She see's the good in everyone. She is
also suppose to be in charge of keeping the house lovely. This
frequently involves laundry and cleaning the kitchen, but despite
having a particularly Emma day, I am behind on both (again). Emma
would much rather write in her journal, flip through a magazine, or
toy with a poem. I was feeling bad that Emma is so under-represented
on the blog, so I'm posting a poem she wrote in March of last year
(my apologies to anyone who was hoping for rhymes – it has none).
I do think it touches a little upon why I'm blogging . . .
NIGHT'S STORM
by Emma (aka
Marlene)
The night's
storm has slowed to a gentle trickle
Its energy
spent in bright bursts and loud claps
My own storm
has gathered while I sleep
Potent clouds
darkened by whirlwind thoughts
I roll out of
bed to find paper and pen
And the storm
unleashes upon the page
Finally,
spent, it dulls to a drowsy patter
Emptied,
Exhausted, I return to my bed
atta way emma
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