Many writers, painters, and musicians have their muses. Sometimes they are the beautiful face or form that lights their imagination. Petrarch had Laura. Man Ray had Lee Miller. Frida and Diego had each other (among others). Some lucky creators get to live with and love their muses.
Grady Thrasher is one of those. A former lawyer turned author/film producer/community advocate and all-around lover of life, he has penned many odes to his wife, artist and muse, Kathy Prescott. By the way, Kathy shares all those "slashes" herself. They are quite the team, manifesting good things around them and inspiring many Athenians and folks far and wide.
Grady has confessed to an addiction to rhyming. His compulsion is visible in his work, but not nearly as brightly as his love for Kathy. This is the 10th anniversary month of an extraordinary couple. Cheers, you two!!
When We Are Old as Winter - Grady Thrasher
When we are old as winter, avoiding sleep,
We’ll retire beside a warming fire with a book,
But I, not reading, will linger on the soft look
Your eyes had once and yet still keep.
Long will I have lived in the gladness of your grace,
Loved your beauty then as I do now
And the honest aesthetic you show
In each glow and shadow of your changing face.
Undiminished by age, love’s brilliant flames,
Their unbroken fever forever abides,
Stronger than mountains, truer than tides,
Moving the stars to know our names.
I Held You in the Vision of My Mind
I held you in the vision of my mind,
The image I sought to make mine complete,
In perfect harmony with age and time,
Where others, imperfect, fell to defeat
By shadows real or shadows only feared.
You, doubtless and secure, at peace with light,
Your radiance embracing as you neared,
Warmed and softened the edges of the night.
Unhesitating, I surrendered all,
Set my sail to run before your breeze,
A course even angels cannot recall,
The journey melodious in its ease.
Awakening, I reach and find you there,
A goddess answering my fevered prayer,
My heart in the custody of your care.
Back home, the name of a road that crosses a railroad track. Here, a place to keep my verbal play-pretties and whatnot.