Tuesday, December 28, 2010

A Vintage Musing

The light from the lantern was pale and dull. Barely enough to hit the cracked walls. It outlined the face of the rustic lectern, fenced with bundles of string tied parchments. The windows were sealed with vintage flows. But for the lamp, it was distictly dark. The room is small, the walls close in. A perfect place for solitary writing.

 I am often visited by vintage musings, it's a wish to live out of a classic novel. To witness the existence of bygone years. When thoughts were simple, quiet and subtle. When there was time to cull the garden blossom and heed to the world of mystic silence.

I want to write long letters, on brown, stained parchments. Wear satin gowns and walk by the lakeside. I feel like I've been misplaced in future and I know this is an imprudent wish. A wish for a day when I'll don those wings, and fly my way to the '60s.

I see that day, of solitary writing, thoughtfully dipping a quill in the inkwell.



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