Late night

Here it is, a Friday night and I can't sleep, so what do I do? Play on the computer, of course.

Seems an overfull tummy can indeed keep you awake. I finally fed my fish craving, rather, over fed it, I should say. Then really overdid it by having a sticky bunn afterwards. Sure was good at the time, though. Have no one to blame but myself.

I made a pig of myself and now I am paying for it. LOL Sigh..........Good thing it's just me and the animals.

The wind is playing with the wind chimes. Can you hear them? "Ting, ting, ting" musically calling to the dark. "Ting, ting, ting" Won't you come and play?

The moon is sliding by on silent wings while stars play peek-a-boo through the clouds. A break in the clouds and look! Streaking across the sky, leaving a curving line of light that slowly fades away. Quick, make a wish!

Thank goodness for automatic draft backup!

It's quiet now, even the dogs have fallen asleep. Listen, I hear them calling again!

"Ting, ting, ting" Perhaps it is the special sound of fairy wings as they scatter the morning dew across the ground and in the trees.

A passing car brakes the quiet, but only briefly. Above the buzz of a motorized contraption I can hear the elusive call, "Ting, ting, ting"

Do I dare answer? Should I follow thier trail into the night? Would I vanish from this world and emerge into the ethrall?

"Ting, ting, ting" The call is strong, sad and compelling. My mood is becoming meloncholy.

I feel a weariness overcoming me. My eyes are heavy with sleep, yet still I hear the elusive call, "Ting, ting, ting"

I give myself a mental shake and try to bring myself back to more solid ground lest I travel wearily into another realm and never return.

"Sleep, perchance to dream" Yes, sweet dreams. Happy dreams. Dreams of friends and fun. Dreams of travel, of coming home.

I slip into the darkness, mind an empty slate. Velvet blankets me as muscles, long used and tired begin to relax.

What is this rambling thought but that of a person up too long and tired beyond that of endurance.

I answer the call at last. "Ting, ting, ting" I drift into sleep.

Goodnight, my friend, for parting is sweet sorrow, but tomorrow, perchance to dream.

The Tickling Muse

I can feel it. A small tickle, light as a feather's touch at the back of my mind. A story is forming, quietly knocking to be released. Not yet fully formed, but already taking on a life of its own, ready to spring from the mind, fully formed and ready to spread the wings of imagination.

What has triggered the Muse to life? I do not know, but I feel it growing, and wiggling and slowly but steadily worming its way out to the light.

What is it about? I have an idea, but do not wish to state its intent until it is ready to burst forth onto the scene.

Until then, I feel the Muse awakening. Life is forming, growing and taking shape. It tickles the fingers as they dance across the keyboard. Fingers that once held a pencil that traveled over snow white paper covered in red and blue lines......

It comes, not as a thief in the night, but as a whirlwind, blowing the cobwebs away and bringing light into the dark.

Yes, I feel the Muse a tickle, tickle, tickling.....