Full Steam Ahead and Monday’s Muse
Alright, Lunatics! It’s a new year; time to start the year off in the best way possible. How? For me it’s getting back in training for my next Color Run in March (this year there’s added glitter! Do NOT start with the sparkly vampire jokes! I will send scary clowns to your house.), and getting my poetry compilation published. I’m still aiming for a February release but just keep in mind that I may have to push that date back. We’ll see. There’s still so much to do, but full work on it begins tomorrow. I also have planned to spend one day a week with Anna and Draeke in Witch Queen throughout January (if not more) and then February will hopefully see me working full tilt on it. I uploaded the beginning tower scene to my crit group and received good reviews so I’m hopeful that I’m not completely out of my head in writing it. There’s always the fear that your writing/work sucks, and that it’s going to be a bomb. Still, I enjoy the time I spend with my characters when I sit my butt down and visit with them. Although the half-elf makes me want to chuck him out a window every so often.
Back to the poetry compilation. I have decided to go with the ‘Love’ theme for my first one. I know it’s cliché to do a Love compilation in February, but not all of my poems on love are mushy and sentimental. So, I’m going to have sections, and these will include poems for break-ups and moving on, etc., as well as the sentimental ones. There may also be some ‘naughty’ ones included. Clean, but a little naughty. Keep your eyes open for updates on the compilation.
Now for Monday’s Muse. The one I’m sharing today I wrote in 2003 and is titled La Lune (The Moon). I love the moon as a metaphor for a woman. She might seem cold, but I have always seen her as ethereal. She chooses to remain in orbit instead of flying off into the void, as if she were in love with Earth and cannot bear to live without us.
Have a great Monday, my friends!
By Jessica Scott
And there she is,
Waiting on the edge of the horizon.
She waits, as unceasingly the sun slowly
Sets on the day.
She looks for the one who will set her free
And end her waiting.
She will be more than the dream,
More than the whisper of hushed voices in the night,
She will be more than your aching need to hold her.
For now, she waits,
And she sees the days become weeks,
The weeks become months.
Months turn into years, and still she’s there,
Sitting on the edge of your dreams,
With her mysterious smile and unfathomable eyes,
And she begs for you to come save her,
To set her free from her earthly bondage.