How? Well . . .

How can I write?
How can I write well,
when I have yet to live,
to break out of my shell?

How can I live?
How can I live well,
when I have yet to think,
to learn for myself?

How can I think?
How can I think well,
when I have yet to feel,
to let my heart swell?

How can I feel?
How can I feel well,
when I have yet to dream,
to discover new realms?

How can I dream?
How can I dream well,
when I have yet to write,
to pen out a tale?

Dance Flower, Dance!

The young flower laughs in the sun,
blossoming for all to see.
Playfully its petals fly, dancing
as the wind plays a beckoning tune.

The young flower sighs in the clouds,
blossoming, but no one sees.
Its petal falls slowly to the ground, for
the wind plays no song; it can’t dance around.

The young flower cries in the rain,
blossoming, its petals droop for all to see.
Petal cling tightly to shield the naked flower,
as wind blows harshly, to make the flower dance.

The young flower shivers in the snow,
It’s blossoms have all been blown away.
Naked in the wind it tries to sway,
As the winds song tauntingly plays.

Journeying to Distant Lands

Many people are born with a love of words burning deep inside their soul.  However, not everyone is born with that passion.  For some it is developed over time and for some sad souls it is never experienced at all.  Today I thought I would share with all of you my journey into the beautiful world of literary imagination that I now inhabit.

As a young child I loved being read to by my parents and older sister.  They would read me books like Butterfly Kisses and The Twelve Dancing Princesses.  In school on the other hand, I hated to read.  I refused to read anything more than Jog Frog Jog or Sue Likes Blue until I has halfway through 1st grade and my parents made me.  I hated to read, I was so far behind.  My first chapter book came in second grade it was The Box Car Children.  I then spent the next 4 year in land of mystery.  I read The Box car Children, Trixie Belden and Mandie.  I enjoyed mystery and intrigue, but at this point I had still not developed a true appreciation for the beauty of words and literature.  That was all about to change.

When I was in sixth grade Anne came into my life and changed my entire view of reading.  Who is this mystical Anne?  Well, she is Anne of Green Gables of course.   These books were recommended to me by my mother.  Of all the things my mother hastaught me over the years, things like walking, talking, and eating, telling me to read these books has been the most life changing.  Anne inspired me to love not only reading, but writing, imagining and creating.  After devouring all eight of these masterful books I went on to read things like Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women, and many others.  I now enjoy reading a variety of different books, but it is always the classic novels with a strong female lead that grip me.  I believe I have Anne to thank for my love of literature.  She changed the way I saw books, the way I saw my life, and the way I saw the world.  I used to want to be a nurse, Anne changed that for me, now I want to write.  I was able to relate to Anne; like her I had a vivid imagination and a love of words bigger than myself.  I never saw these qualities as a gift or as a way to make a living, but Anne showed me the truth.  I want to create characters as powerful as Anne and change people’s lives the way L.M. Montgomery changed mine.  This is my attempt t sum up my life through reading, but it is hard to try and sum up my reading life, because I am still in the middle of it. I am still learning to read in many ways, because with every book I read, I learn something new about literature and ways to interact with it.

Elmer’s World

Elmer locked the padlock on the rusted door of his 1983 Chevy Impala and stealthy placed the keys in his pocket.  He then turned to enter the local coffee shop, Bernie’s Coffee Pot.  Inside was a small, but warm space.  Elmer hiked-up his blue sweat pants up over his white t-shirt and walked up to the counter.  Bernie, a short and heavy middle-aged man with large glasses and a shiny head, greeted him cheerily.  “Hello Elmer,” said Bernie, “how are you today?”

“Well, I’m only okay,” replied Elmer with his nasally voice.  “My stomach is upset, and it kept me up half the night yesterday.”

“Oh, well that’s too bad.  What can I get you to drink?”

“Well I think I want a cup of hot black coffee, although I don’t like to drink hot coffee in the morning, because it makes me sweat under my armpits,” replied Elmer has he scratched the top of his bald head.

“One cup of coffee.  Have a good one,” said Bernie as he stood on his tip-toes to hand the tall Elmer his cup of morning armpit sweat.  Elmer walked out through the glass door and passed a suspicious looking man entering the shop.  This man wore a leather jacket and had spiked black hair.  Elmer rushed to the side of his padlocked car to make sure nothing of his had been touched.  Thank goodness his car was safe.  Elmer reached into his pocket to pull out the key when, to his chagrin, they were not there.  They must have fallen out of his sweat pants pocket when he took his wallet out to pay for his coffee.  Urgh, he did not what to go into the shop while that young hooligan was there, but it looked like that was what he was going to have to do.  As Elmer turned to go back into the shop he saw the black haired gangster walk over, lock the door and close the blind.  Elmer knew it, these youngsters aren’t to be trusted.  Now what was he supposed to do?


-What do you think should happen next in Elmer’s World? Leave a comment. 

Who Did We Become?

Beauty, grace, sophistication,
traits of days gone by.
Sexy, seductive, desirable
traits of the modern world.

When did erotic become elegant?

Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Ava Gardener,
beauty icons of days gone by.
Kim Kardashian, Shakira, Meghan Fox,
beauty icons of the modern world.

When did we start thinking less of ourselves?

Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables.
pictures of love in days gone by.
50 Shades of Grey, The Fault in Our Stars, The Notebook
picture of love in the modern world.

When did passion become love?

Moonlight walks, candlelight dinner’s, ballroom dancing,
romantic dates of days gone by.
Going to the bar, going to the club, a one-night stand,
romantic dates of the modern world.

When did we lower our standards?

Reasons for You

Tears and sorrow are part of life.
They come and go along with strife.
Fear and dread stay in our heart.
They will live till we depart.
Why then do we still remain
in a world wrought with pain?
In this life mistakes are made.
In this life debts are paid.
Why do we continue to toil so?
Why do we not end it and go?
Do we stay for the fleeting joy,
coming and going, making us it’s toy?
I remember once hearing it said
tomorrow’s fresh, with no mistakes yet.
This truth has since bounced in my head.
We all have a purpose that must be met.

Of Dragons and Donkeys

Vast darkness overtakes the sky,
clouds form, the world begins to cry.
Joints creak rheumatically.
My mind wanders helplessly.

I call it arthritis of the brain.
It is consistent with the rain.
Journeying to distant lands, I go
frolicking in the sun’s dark glow.

A princess dancing in the field,
the weapon of love I wield.
Against a dragon it is not strong,
but he cannot hold me captive long.

A circle of fire around me grows.
The monster from Hell bellows and blows,
then softly he speaks, deceiving me.
Cunningly he offers misery.

Deceived by him in foolishness,
locked in a tower with my sins,
I await a prince; myself I can’t save.
To the dragon, I am a slave.

My prince will be fair and strong I think,
swiftly riding to his lady in pink.
On a horse he’ll come, sword in hand
To slay the beast and free the land.

In my tower of this rescue I dream,
a victim of the devil’s scheme.
Then one day a clip-clop I hear,
my heart dances with joy and fear.

At last my mighty Knight has come,
to fight and free, to lead me home.
But then I see a figure grim,
on a donkey, this can’t be him!

My prince is just not fair at all,
too frail, he’ll be beaten in a brawl.
At the gate his donkey he dismounts,
the dragon in secret waits to pounce.

As soon as the man nears the door,
the devil springs with a mighty roar.
His jaws open wide, his mouth descends.
This man has surely met his end.

The dragon easily swallows him whole.
My dreams are dashed; he has my soul.
In this tower I’m doomed to stay,
until my fatal judgement day.

Three minutes since my world has crumpled,
And oddly the fiend’s scales seem rumpled.
His body quakes as he falls down.
Red pools of blood form on the ground.

From the dragon’s stomach my prince appears.
I run to him weeping happy tears.
“You’ve slain the dragon and thwarted death,
I give you my soul, my heart, my breath.

Come, my prince and carry me home.
With you I could weather any storm.
On your asinine stead I’ll ride,
and we will always be side by side.”

“Nay, fair lady,” my savior replied.
“To say I don’t love you would be a lie,
but I have other work I must do,
this work cannot conclude with you.

I’ll guide you on your journey home,
while through dark pathways you roam, alone.
And when our work is all complete,
again in my kingdom we will meet.”

“I do not question you, wise king,
to you alone great praise I will sing.”
And with this we went separate ways,
To meet again in more perfect days.

The rain has stopped so my story ends
My brain from the realm of magic rends
itself, to mortal will it must bend.
Adieu ‘till the next rain my friends.

*photo credit: pintrest*