" Sunday--zed "

The Holy day, to most.
Another week begins.
Nothing to look forward to.

Just work, home & TV.
The rut is draining.
How can I mix it up?

Shall I paint a masterpiece?
Shall I send sexy e-mails?
Shall I photograph a bug?

NO! Something different
and dramatic is needed.
Something for the memoirs.

A mountainside picnic.
Cool breezes & writing,
with a fellow poet!

Gazing down at the city
fragrances of pine & smoke
filling our lungs & heads.

We "2" poets hearing earth
whispering sweet nothings.
We eagerly respond.

In vibrant literary song
words pour forth on pages.
We linger, daylight is gone.

Descending reverently,
weak from being ridden
by our frantic muses.

Our spirits fatigued from creativity.
Spent, yet fulfilled all at once.
Shakespear's quill in the dust.

Ahhhhh!.. Was it good for you?

*v* J`e (2-5-09)