Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “drawing”


I doodle when captive.
When I am shackled to the phone by a curly cord,
my ear tired and sweaty from close
contact with plastic and monotony.

I grasp at post it notes and edges of envelopes.
The fine line black felt is my weapon of choice
But any cheap ball point will do
in a pinch.
Start with a line, a curve, a hat with a feather.

“Yes, I’m listening.” I assure the droning in my ear
as strokes become longer, curling into petals
and dragonfly wings.
The drone becomes a staccato as it lists point
after point and the pen dashes out rays of starlight
in time.

Finally a face evolves from chaos and little eyes look
a question at me.
“I’ll have to call you back. I have someone here.”
And I smile at the little person I’ve created,
my escapist release.



The Way I Draw

Sometimes the pencil moves on its own,
it knows the way it wants to go
and nothing I can do will stop it.
I reach for the eraser and then pause.
Perhaps the pencil knows something I don’t.

A shape emerges and somewhere at the back
of my mind a switch is thrown,
a light goes on.
Ah, so that’s where we’re heading.
And I continue on down this new path,
herding my pencil like a recalcitrant cat,
until the next epiphany.



Shelide’s Gift – The Poem

Shelide's Gift

"Shelide's Gift" pen and ink by L. Studley

Long ago when time still slept
And night was dark, too dark to breathe
Nameless terrors slunk and crept
And noxious vapours seethed.

Man stayed home to tend the fire
And wholesome creatures shunned the night
Shelide shook her wings and vowed
She would not rest till there was light.

Light enough to banish fear
And bathe the night in joy and wonder.
Light to dazzle eyes and hearts
To tear night’s veil asunder.

“How shall I do?” She asked her kin.
“With gossamer trails” they cried.
“How shall I do?” She asked the sea.
“With waves of shimmering light.”
“How shall I do?” She asked the sun.
“Like me, but not the same.”
“How shall I do?” She asked of man.
“Like sparks that leap from flame.”
Shelide spread her wings and flew.
She flew into the dark.
Weaving light from drops of hope
And the pulsing of her heart.
A thousand years and a thousand more
She spilled the Milky Way.
She wove the glittering curtains
The Northern Lights let play.
A thousand years and a thousand more
And she forged the silvery moon.
And sparked the stars from the flinty hearts
Of the creatures of the gloom.
And when the night was set ablaze
And darkness set to rout
Shelide fell to earth again
To watch the stars come out.
She rested in the coolness
By a misty, moisty pond
Looked back across her shoulders
And saw her wings were gone.
“You took so long” the creatures cried.
“You took so long” said man.
“You must be the slowest thing
Since e’re the world began!”
And Shelide cried and crept away
Tears sparkling on the leaves
Remembering her lovely wings
She bows her head and grieves.

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