She Had Given Up Completely When I Found Her

She was on the ground
Draped over a mushroom house
Almost hidden under poison ivy
I almost stepped on her with my hiking boots

My singing stopped immediately
I was concerned, but not surprised 
For I had run across them before
In glimpses and glances

This one had given up
Her essence was draining quickly
If a wolf had gotten her, she would have been torn apart
So it was not a wolf

A bear could have had her for a nose plug
Not that bears need them
I was amazed that she did not flinch or move
Thought she was dead initially

Took her home,
Fed her from the tiniest eye dropper
Learned her story
It was a man of course

Who took her essence like this
A brownie who fooled her into giving him all of her love
She had nothing left
Ready to die

I kept her hidden for years
Until she was ready to dance and sing again
Her name is Trixie
She is my muse
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Roberts Avatar
May 18, 2019 at 2:04 AM
Love your work??
Krutsinger Avatar
May 18, 2019 at 4:10 AM
Thank you Johny. I think you meant to say "love your play". My muse Trixie and I are happy about that, and I dare not respond without mentioning her for she is smacking me in the head right now, for credit.
Roberts Avatar
May 18, 2019 at 2:07 AM
Love your style
Roberts Avatar
May 18, 2019 at 2:05 AM
Faulkner Avatar
May 17, 2019 at 6:55 PM
I thought you were describing a water nymph or woodland faerie, delighted it was your merry muse!
Krutsinger Avatar
May 17, 2019 at 8:40 PM
She made me turn it into her. I was not going to but OUCH! Now she is clogging on my head, angry. I have to watch my typing; now that she reads English.
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