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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Everyday Canvas
#1009759 added May 6, 2021 at 11:17am
Restrictions: None
May 6
For "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise
Prompt: "The magic of the hill top is seeing her little books bought to life in the place where they were created."
Peter Tasker


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This quote is about restoring Beatrix Potter’s home, on a hilltop where she grew different kinds of plants and put her drawings of them in her books. When one looks carefully one can see about where each of her stories were created.
Here’s a link: https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/restoring-beatrix-potters-garden

Wouldn’t it be nice if each author’s creations could be traced to the actual time and space where they were created?


*FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV* *FlowerV*


For: "Space Blog
Prompt: From Alexi
STATIC
The Flight That Changed My Life   (E)
The sun rose early birds stretched and took flight nothing unusual just another day.
#2085037 by Alexi

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This poem takes its flight into the air from a scared emotion, the fear of flying, but then, it branches into other feelings and thoughts some of which are the author’s privileged, internal musings.

I don’t know. I never had such fears. In fact, I enjoy flying. Yet, I don’t read too much into it either. To me flying is just a convenient way of travel. Maybe I am not too much of an emotional person.

Yet, there is this one time I can’t forget. The plane I was in was going to Tri-Cities Airport (TRI) in Blountville, TN. I was traveling alone and reading a book. When the pilot announced that we were there and about to land, I lifted my head from the book and saw the chains of blue mountains in layers, almost like blue mists. I gasped. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever set eyes upon. This was probably two and a half decades ago, and that view still lingers in my mind. I bet if people come up with taking photos of what’s in one’s mind, this would become a very vivid photograph.


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