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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.
 
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Everyday Canvas #1010477 added May 20, 2021 at 11:05am
Restrictions: None
May 20
For "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" 
Prompt: "Books are a uniquly portable magic." Stephen King Write about this quote in your Blog entry today.
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Agreed. 100 % and then some. Where would I be in my life without books? I guess I’d survive, but barely.
Books have been my constant companions ever since I was four, when I learned to read practically on my own as my mother had claimed. Books have been there for me throughout my life.
When I need to fortify myself with knowledge, I resort to books. When I need to have a quiet time or entertainment, I pick a book I have stored somewhere in the house. When the going gets tough, I find solace in books. Books have the magic power of taking my attention away from the current problems.
Also, books rarely --if ever-- die, go away, or get mad at you, and then leave you. They are constant, and they are there at my own beck and call. What could be better than that!
For: "Space Blog"
Prompt: "Invalid Item" in which laurafu   writes to her daughter in vitro. If you were an expectant mother, what would you say to your child?
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Sweet poem, written from the heart. I believe many mothers would relate to the author’s feelings.
In my case, there is no "if" for expectancy, but I was an expectant mother three times, earlier. As much as I appreciate the sweet feelings in the poem, unlike the author of the poem, before they were born, I promised my kids and myself that I’d never lie to them about Santa’s actions or any other unreal or fable-based stuff, and when I would tell them such stories, I’d make sure they were to be told that those stories were from imagination. And I did just that. It was well worth it, too. My kids now have their both feet set firmly on the ground.
The only negative thing that came out of it was the resentment of another mother of a six-year-old who was my younger son’s classmate. She berated me for not letting the kid believe in fairy tales, since my son had told her daughter that Santa was supposed to be a nice guy, but he was imaginary, and Santa certainly was not Christ himself as that little girl had mixed up Santa and Christ as the same person.
I told the mother what she’d tell her kids were her business, as what I’d tell mine were my business. I don’t know what she was aiming at. Should I go ask my kids for their forgiveness for not lying to them? I am not blaming any parent for letting their kids believe what they want them to believe, but it is their business, and my business is mine. Once you’re a mother, you meet all sorts of parents.
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