She’ll pick him an asterisk
or a comma or two; full
stops, ideas tied off in
neat packages, have always
eluded his dialogue,
circumvented an outcome.
.
Her dreams have become dangling
participles, unfinished
pages with Schubert’s flavour,
unable to hold hyphen’s
place – waiting, always waiting,
a watched pot that never boils.
.
Phrases, nuances, shadings
of meaning get bogged down, dragged
through the spittle of run-on
sentences; she slams the door
on the argument, her shoes
leaving angry editing
marks on the stairs. Period.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Your creative ability is like the heavens on a clear summer night, endless!
Why, thank you! 🙂 I truly see it as a gift handed to me by a good God – and so I use it, and seek to improve and challenge it, and learn to expand my horizons with practice.
But what is that asterisk you found in your garden?
The top of a poppy seed head – neat, isn’t it?
Very neat!!!
Clever!
🙂 Thanks Rosy!
Well I think you hit a whole new level on this one. Had to read it three times.
I’m hoping that’s a good thing… 🙂
You have to understand that I don’t watch movies again unless then are exceptional.
Then I will consider it an honour to have been re-viewed. 😀
WOW, lots of good stuff here, Mel–I relate too well to “her dreams have become dangling participles”; and yes, I think the “run on sentences” are familiar too.
It can be so frustrating to be cross-referenced instead of above-board… Sheesh and 5 1/2 halves…