When she would write with quill in candlelight,
she'd sip her Beaujolais to please her muse.
And she would, too, a thought, in quiet recite;
a smile, she might, if deemed a phrase to use.
And she would choose a form to suit her mood,
some woven song of love, a ragged twill.
Whatever weave, her quest for art pursued
and woven true, a seamstress of the quill.
Be it her wont or style to twirl a phrase,
to gain the rights where feelings like to hide.
As patient as the night, her quaintly ways
in whiling words away ’till satisfied.
She'd hasten not for verse may take its time;
she'd sip her Beaujolais to ease her mind
and watch the candle burn and there divine
the essence of her art in hopes to find.
When of a poem and time has disappeared;
her heart and soul in verse and thus become.
In such a charm her musings commandeered,
from whence deliverance and she'd succumb.
She'd lay her poem to rest where ink may dry;
she'd sip her mellow rouge in sweet delight.
She'd wait the morrow's night, her heart's reply,
when she would write with quill in candlelight.
-
Author:
Tony Grannell (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2026 10:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Salvia.S, sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments4
When she would write with quill in candlelight,
she'd sip her Beaujolais to please her muse.
And she would, too, a thought, in quiet recite;
a smile, she might, if deemed a phrase to use
This is a fabulous opening stanza with the rest to follow you have managed imagery and emotion as if I was watching in a mirror, so elegant and the quill makes it that much more special. Stupenda my friend 🌹 🌹
Hello, Teddy,
Thank you ever so much for the lovely response, kind of you indeed.
Fond regards,
Tony.
Another wonderful poem about the art and the person that composes it. Poetry like wine serves the same purpose for some it washes with tears, erases fears, drowns depression, gives love expression but liquid and words are similar birds neither last beyond the night and leave a hang over in morning light. Sorry my friend once again could not help myself. I'm sure this will leave me with a head ache and hope it doesn't you.
Hello, Soren,
Don't worry about getting carried away, I do it all the time, the older I get the more so. Your lovely words are very much appreciated, my friend.
All the best,
Tony.
It's always a pleasure my friend
So it's Beaujolais that's needed. And I'm wasting my time with Newcastle Brown Ale.
Such a good Write and a definite fave.
Hello, Kevin,
Yes indeed, wine, about two pints of it and the poetry will flow, the more expensive the wine the better the poetry. Kind of you to drop by.
All the best ,
Tony.
My Pleasure.n
You make this come to life. Superb work.
Hello, Thomas,
It gladdens me that you enjoyed this one. Your words are very much appreciated.
All the best,
Tony.
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