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….
Sometimes they do have a mind of their own. It’s always the ending that’s elusive.
Some stories will just not cooperate… and those endings also, sigh.
When the story escapes, you can expect anything 🙂 Happy Christmas!
Yes you can, sometimes it can be better than it was 🙂 Happy Christmas to you also!
Thank you! 🙂
Sometimes my muse just disappear without even a smile!
They can do that with no remorse 🙂
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.
Those characters can be contrary 🙂
Thaet certainly can! 🙂
I wonder if stories have their own mind or is it that we manipulate them a bit too much. Nice poem.
Sometimes I think they do have a mind of their own, ha ha. Thank you!
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 …
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Thank you. I miss typewriters too sometimes, except when correcting errors, ha ha.