She rests among the mosses
A shrine of wood and wishes
In this quiet sunlit forest
She is peaceful, not forgotten.
a dryad-treestump maiden, who twisted into place,
my pencilling too messy, so wood flowed round her face.
And grasses grew around her, and roots twisted round her wrist,
and from the slender sapling behind her, rose a girl of leaves and mist.
I rather liked the concept and the curvy way she posed,
so as soon as the tablet was mine again, a sketch on the screen arose…
It wasn’t quite abstract or anime, nor a gentle blushing bride
and so out of wood I carved her and let the paint decide,
And the leaves spread out around her, as I sprinkled and I spun
And brown and green around her, the trees grew one by one.
The steps I saw quite clearly, but the details made me yawn
So I looked up ruins and flung dabs, until perspective was born.
And moss and sunlight gathered and layers flowed and split
And the hours flew silently by, until I was forced to quit.
But the quiet woodland waited, and the headless idol watched
Until I woke this morning and added bark metallic and notched…
And the trees sprang up behind, and the flowers crept over the steps
And the sun lanced through the trees and everywhere shadows crept…
Roses of orange and yellow were added on a whim
and in the offering bowl lies a lily blurred and dim.
’Til at last I could not deny her, she had to have a head,
Although I tried to distract her by painting her fingers instead.
The shiny coins didn’t sway her, and empty was this wood,
until I shaped her a face and swept over her a hood.
Then sprouted a few last flowers, and a twisting thorny vine
Along the lowest terrace, its thorns as dark as wine
But I’ve worked on this seven full hours and new ideas have grown,
So posting and moving on now, before my muse has flown.