Ode: To Inspiration

So Donal kicked his slippers off

travelled on bare feet

swiveled swaggered high stepped side stepped

made it to the street

his muse clasped him in her arms

once again he was young

standing outside her house

his first day onshore of a magic place

encircled by trees

water not far

as an outcast feels

so it felt to be alone

downcast

facing winter without a scarf

journeying to Spain

to cold Valladolid

austere in winter as in spring

to find her again

with a sketchbook

wearing a handmade scarf of tie-dyed silk

loosely tied

colors of gold and green

shades of reds and browns

clash 

to find her again

by an orange grove where a stream

fell from the hills

in Andalusia below Ronda

where beauty bathed in a stream

long hair iridescent in moonlight

brushed in sunlight

to find her again

when she had seemed long lost

having her near thereafter

Dick Russell © Richard M. Russell

                   2024