“What then do you call your soul? What idea have you of it? You cannot of yourselves, without revelation, admit the existence within you of anything but a power unknown to you of feeling and thinking.”
~ Voltaire
Called to the carpet
To meet with
Prominent editor
Of finest antiquity
Gigantic Persian
Rug
The office loomed
Enormous
Intimidating
At the end of a
Brightly lit
Corridor
Heart pine floors
Substantial
Eloquent
Strong enough to
Support
Even the largest
Of egos
She held up my
Book
As I entered
The room
Smiling from her
Throne
This stuff is
Good
Closing the cover
Setting it aside
Take a seat
What else have
You got
I sat back
And grinned
Let my spiel
Rip
The sky’s the limit
When you dream
In living color
Too many used to be’s
Faded away with
Time
Not enough now’s
To sustain us
Into tomorrow
Image – Wings of dust
© Copyright 2005-2010 by Jill Terry. All Rights Reserved. Any unauthorized use, in whole or in part without prior written consent is prohibited.
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