EXERCISE Random Word Inspiration 6

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by Kitti, Jun 17, 2016.

  1. Thoughts can be fickle things. Sometimes all it takes are a few words to spark an idea and those same words can have a different effect on everyone.


    What do these words inspire in you?
    Write whatever comes to mind, be it poem or prose. It doesn't even have to include the words if you don't feel like it!



  2. She was beautiful in the moonlight. The hem of her dress rippled around her legs with the faint breeze which teasing the skirt to and fro with the blades of grass that danced around her knees. The low sounds of nocturnal creatures emerging for the evening broke the silence between us as I struggled to find words. She was standing now, halfway up the hill and looking down at me with characteristic laughter in her eyes and when she realized she had caught me gaping at her, it bubbled from her lips as well.

    "Don't do that, you're making me blush" she scolded lightly, reaching out for me. The pale porcelain fingers glowed in the pale light, fastening around my own hand and pulling me toward her. The basket with the sandwiches that I had packed was resting beneath the tree at the top of the hill, in the crook of one of the roots, and it was here that she was pulling me by my free hand while I followed along like a lovesick puppy. I smiled to myself at the simile, thinking that I might as well just admit that the word did me more justice than metaphor.


    "Are you laughing at me? Did I do something?" She had noticed my smile, a blush creeping into her cheeks as she glanced down at herself to check for the cause of my mirth. I shook my head at her, pulling back on her hand to draw her to me instead of the other way around. She was easily captured as I pressed her against my chest, awkwardly holding the canvas in my hand away from her. She did not seem to mind, pressing her cheek into me as she gazed up with those doe-like eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered wildly why I had imagined I would be able to do justice to her with my drawings. I did not think that Michelangelo could capture how beautiful she looked at this moment, let alone me, with my trembling hands.

    "Do you want me to stand in front of the tree so you can sketch me?" she asked finally, drawing me out of my thoughts. She looked expectant and I let go of her, balancing the canvas in one arm while I fumbled around in my bag for the pencils that I had brought with me. She had begun to move already beneath the branches, her slender form dwarfed by the gnarled wood. It did not match, they did not suit one another. I frowned.

    "Can you stand on the hill instead? I like the light there."​