The fairy tale begins deep in the magic woodland. The story unfolds in poetic form as The Little Sprout tries to find his path in life. What will he decide to do? What will he become? What would you do, if you were a sprout? Fully colorized, featuring art by Muse.
Be still the moonlight in harbor’s dim
A tepid mongrel soul does serendipitously swim.
I flutter neath life’s mortal sleep ~
Faithfully keeping secrets of the deep.
Long ago in ages of innocent youth
A heart was tied, entangled ~ not aloof.
My love was given as the wind ~
Freely floating without end. We danced in meadows filled with green
Our private clover guarded and unseen.
We planted seeds that broke the soil ~
Some were fruitful ~ others spoiled. Two souls united ~ or so I thought
We dwell in sunlight where we ought.
Dark social noblemen shunned from our sight ~
Nary did we mourn our peasantry plight. The days passed as days must do and our love
Was discovered and was tested for the truth.
It was Medusa in her garden of blackness bitter born ~
Who whispered to her lover, ‘I shall attack at morn’.
So she bade us welcome with her serpent’s demonic hiss
We recoiled instantly with a sight such this.
Medusa whispered in your ear all your hurts,
your horrors, your fears.
United we stood firmly in the light ~
Daring not to pass from our meadow into Medusa’s black of night.
She watched us with beady eyes that swayed a reptilian dance
Little by little, I felt your body waver in a metronomic trance.
She smiled wickedly and with a darting of her tongue ~
She softened her hissing to a liar’s preening hum.
She sung to you all your joys, your wants, your hopes and spoils
And your love flickered but for an instant ~
but indeed the deed was done.
For in that one moment of betrayal, Medusa’s seduction
had now won.
She pulled you to her meadow where pestilence was seed ~
And harvest was the human hearts from which we all bleed.
I stood at the meadow’s gate mourning in the sun ~
While you my love were gnawed upon the deceit of the one.
With sword in hand I charged forth ~ To grapple in the bleak ~
To traverse all of hell for the true love I seek.
But nay…my victory was not to be ~
For as I raised my blade, your voice contently bade me stay ~
Your hands unyielding, held my armament at bay.
This tale will not find me in Dante’s dark abode ~
And though I am dead, I am no longer alone.
For Neptune and Poseidon, gave me shelter from the green.
I await the gates of heaven as I swim within the sea ~
And though I am forgiven ~ From your love I shall never be free.
LOVE is the very essence of emotion. Succinctly defined love is; “extreme affection” that hardly seems to encompass its vastness. Anthesis is a menagerie of love; savoring the beauty of words, luxuriating in the plethora of imagery they evoke. Anthesis, a book of sonnets is accompanied by full color art and includes many original Muse works. Peek into the mind of Muse beyond her written word.
pine needles that
twist and shimmer
disembodied lover’s figures
encased in stones of snow
statuesque vertical branches
imprisoned within a realm of glacial marrow
This is my white chalk on blue stock portrait. Voids were created through gum eraser as well q-tips. Wd-40 was used to assist in “moving” the chalk in order to create the glacier effect surrounding the maiden’s body – hope you like her!