Tell Me (art)

This art inspired the poem, but does not visually go with the poem. Or rather, the inspiration for the poem was the words on this art combined with last night’s dream…

If I were a person of unlimited means, I would be shopping for a shoemaker to recreate the oh so fabulous traveling boots worn in the dream as those boots were so fine, an unusual design, seemed to go on forever, made of the best and trimmed in an exotic fur above the knees, definately not cheap boots and like something I have never seen. And they were called “traveling boots” in the dream, the pair I put on to leave. My sister took my other boots, also an unusual pair of very nice tall boots, and put them next to the bed of a man I love and we had words about it as that was not fair to him. Leaving my boots by his bed was like staking a claim, kind of like a cat marking her territory to ward off other cats, and I could not do that to him. So I snuck into his room and silently retrieved the boots while he was making love to another woman, which was weird to dream about but oddly, I only felt saddened, not jealous.

I don’t know what happened to that other pair of boots as dreams tend to omit things, flips to new scene, and I’m still wearing the traveling boots and carrying just a leather handbag (no baggage) as I hop a train.

I really liked those traveling boots, and not only because they looked so grand on me. They made me feel so confident and I could move with ease, as if freed of all disability. Maybe they are magical?

As for the art, they are gouche paintings, each 2.5×3.5 inches cut from a painting done just puttering around while babysitting my infant grandson and his 8 year old uncle over the weekend. (Sounds complicated? Nah, it just make me a young step-great-grandmother by future marriage.) The 8 year old loves art, so we broke out the gouche. The words were later added with Polychromos.

Thanks for reading this blog and viewing my art!

If you are into dreams, do boots mean anything?



Tell Me

Tell me a story to weave into dreams,
Snuggled safe in soft moon beams,
Let me listen to your voice awhile.
Do you find my request too juvenile?
I’m not asking for a fairy tale,
Children’s books nor ghostly wail.
And this is not an erotic fantasty,
Tho your words shall comfort me
As we ride the crest before the wave
To sink alone into slumber haze.
Your voice could be the last I hear
Speaking words I hold so dear.

Shadows pass by in the night,
Regrets may steal dawn’s early light.
Please tell me a story, I beg of thee,
To ease the pain and stay with me,
So recite a poem or make up lies.
I feel you smile and close my eyes.
And should life offer another day,
My appreciation shall find a way,
To convay what words fail to share,
So you will know how much I care.
Thank you dear, my friend, sweet love,
May you be blessed by heaven above.

If could say these words out loud,
A story would put me on a cloud.
But silence holds me in her grasp,
As you are not here, I cannot ask.
Haunting dreams do rise and swirl,
Alone I sink into the whirl,
Trains to nowhere explain too much,
Yet I wake up longing for your touch
In my traveling boots trimmed in fur,
Too sad to be jealous of a someday her.
It makes no sense, I don’t know why,
Attempts at companionship go awry.

So tell me a story will you please,
To curl my toes and melt my knees.
Cloaks of solitude drop to the floor,
Those boots can wait outside your door.
Naked, so vulnerable, I come to you,
Make up lies or tell me true,
Pretend for a minute that all is well,
Hold me under an orator’s spell.
Rock me, love me, through the night,
Snuggle near and strike the light,
I want to bask in your candle’s glow,
To feel alive and kiss the snow.

N ©2013