Trip The Light Fantastic
The sole metaphor is enveloped
in childish delights. A reversal of fortunes
configured this reverie where I could not deny loyalty to amend my stumbles,
straighten out my aloof posture under lingering clouds; I was reminded of refrains,
twirling, and merriment. My counterfeit
heart accepted a half suggestive smile from a stranger, a warm hand and an
invitation to trip the light fantastic.
Together we danced, nimbly and light through the emissions of alchemy’s one
hundred brilliant colours, just to enjoy a moment simply for what it is. We did this, coupled, just long enough for it
to be enchanting to tell a tale of how glorious it is to shed sadness, breathe without
thought, and revel in the ease of being.
Trip the light fantastic.
**
A writing exercise. I had to choose from a small list of phrases, this one stuck out. It also firmly planted 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' the classic earworm by Procol Harum in my noodle. Not the worst thing in the world by any means.
I am not highly motivated today. I am tired and lethargic and can't decide whether I want to nap, walk or wrestle with my decisions. It's one of those days where I just don't know what I want nor do I even know what to do with myself. I am happy I managed to write a few words but I am empty above the neck in terms of inspiration, or maybe that's my heart? Either way, I am feeling hollow in the creative regions of my being. I dislike the feeling. I long for that overwhelming burst of fever that comes with the flood of feel good-ness from being consumed by the Muse. I'm wide open and waiting.
Happy Sunday. ECMA broadcast tonight then it's back to the daily grind tomorrow. Blech. Could my lotto win be close? *crosses fingers*
In propinquity,
Nic
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