That's really nice, Z.
Poetry |
(Dec 24, 2016 08:11 PM)Leigha Wrote: That's really nice, Z. Wegs: I don't get inspired too often but it just so happened that I had my window open listening to the birds outside at the feeders and at the precise moment I read your name in "View Today's Posts" I heard a bird make a sound much like your username, Leigha. I started repeating it in my mind, jotted down the first line and went from there. And before you know it the inspiration was gone. That's all I could manage. I do better work in the shower but it's tough to pen anything in there. (Dec 26, 2016 06:00 PM)Zinjanthropos Wrote:(Dec 24, 2016 08:11 PM)Leigha Wrote: That's really nice, Z. LOL, indeed, it would be difficult to keep an ongoing notebook of our writings whilst showering without it looking like a water color painting before long. I love to write, and I've been told that even if in the middle of the night, you are awakened by an inspiring dream or thought, to wake up, and jot it down. lol I don't do that enough, and then those inspiring thoughts seem to vanish away, never to be thought of again. There are days when nothing comes to mind, and other days, when I could write for hours. Song: to Celia [Come, my Celia, let us prove] BY BEN JONSON Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain. Suns that set may rise again; But if once we lose this light, ’Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumor are but toys. Cannot we delude the eyes Of a few poor household spies, Or his easier ears beguile, So removed by our wile? ’Tis no sin love’s fruit to steal; But the sweet thefts to reveal, To be taken, to be seen, These have crimes accounted been.
I call this: Praying Daze
Eye knead too no Due bares sleigh would dear? Know won nose. Dew ewe? Sum whir scene clothes two dough Mussels tents, taught fir, Clause lei waist Butt knot hear Wee herd whaling, wining grown Harry pause halve patients Mousse meet Sew suite
Poem by Emma Etwell
My darling, My girl, Why are you so sad? Why can't you see that life is not all bad? You're my angel, Please don't cry, I don't understand, so please tell me why? Your beautiful face, Your fading smile, I vow to make you happy for more than just a while. You're so precious, Why can't you see? I beg you to break that chain, Then you'll be free. The past is gone, It's not going to change, But the future is yours... For you to arrange, Live your life, Be happy, don't cry, I'm here and now those tears can dry. I love you, my darling, Let go of the sorrow, Because I'm here for you.... Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Wegsy, where you been, a Cuban beach?
when all you have is words and things
and stuff to put on screens the most you might just hope to say is less than what can be seen more than what is read in wrote but equal to the task so post your prose in highs and lows so in poetry we bask. (written by me impromptu) |
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
|
Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)