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Where the Story Goes

Perchance when the story comes
it will be too large to tell
melting into uncharted oblivion
smirking like a wayward imp
melancholy writer laboring
chasing the end
finding the lost along the way
only to be singed
intermittently patching that story
with mystical fabric
the tale winds around a circuitous route
the omniscient voice deciding
lovelorn or love lost?
the plot treads
between two worlds
crossing into the unknown
the Muse smiles
then scampers off into the moonlit night
the plot escalates
then decides to fall
perhaps there is
no story at all….
typewriter-585000_1280

Published increative writingpoetryPoetry

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  1. Stories so often take a different route to the one we’d planned so carefully for them. Something seems to step in along the path with a big ‘Divergence’ sign. As for characters . . . well, they never do as they’re told! Nicely expressed in your poem, LT.

  2. Very, very nice post. Love the typewriter … several of my stories started on one such as that … I do miss the clack, clack, clack of the keys striking a papered rubber roller …
    g

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