Dear You

Moonlight Effect...

Dear you,

Rendered, this evening, immobile. Painted the colour forlorn. The very picture of despondency. To other eyes, it may appear a magical moonlit evening. Indeed the postcard’s printed title declares this Moonlight Effect the third in a series of presumed splendid moonlight evenings. I failed to chance on the first and the second, and know not if there is a fourth, but I can easily imagine them perfect for those making wishes or nuzzling the neck of some beloved. However, to me this night is one in which can only hang the head. Flopped. Pooped. Despondent.

Struck lacklustre quite out of the blue,
X

(Postcard collage title:Simple pleasure by moonlight.)

That brilliant star in us all somewhere...

Dear you,
 
Summoned hither to this peculiar place. Some inner voice, I expect, for it is quite unlike anywhere I’ve previous been. Peaks and colour electrical, this is magical Monaco burning bright day and night. If ever was a place in which to birth the dancing star made of our own internal chaos and workings, why then that brilliant star in us all somewhere, surely this is the place. As I familiarise myself with the tall geography and coloured rocks, my eyes are pulled wide open. Don’t miss a clue, my mantra.
 
Perhaps, should all else fail, I’ll discover someone else’s star mislaid and calling home temporarily a dry and rocky crop. The star of genius, found in a rock garden overgrown!
 
Yours thinking of myself much more than is remedy for sanity (but what is that anyway?),
X

(Postcard collage title: Without a backward look.)