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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 #1065395 added March 2, 2024 at 12:07pm
Restrictions: None
March 2nd, 2024
Day 3025
March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes, and a laugh in her voice.” ― Hal Borland
Tell us about some of your childhood antics when your hair was tousled, and you had a mischievous smile.
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Gosh, this is so far away that even the pale memory of my antics feel like they belong to someone else.
What I know from what the others have told me that I never did naughty stuff like raiding the cookie jar or drawing on the walls. If anything, I was naughty when and if another kid was around just to stay pals with her or him.
To begin with, I did worry about the cats my aunt had in the house and their kittens and I would hold the newborns very gently even though my grip may not have been the best for their health, but my aunt instructed me not to touch the kittens at all. So, I just sat by and talked to them and told them the stories my grandmother used to tell me. To this day, I like talking to the cats and other animals.
But the worst thing I did was this: I once opened the front door when no one was looking and lifted the latch on the gate outside by taking a chair and stepping on it to reach the latch. Then I brought the chair back and escaped to the beach and became the "lost child" in the community. Even this was done without any bad intention because we were already going to the beach and the adults took their time getting ready for it. That certain beach, at that time, was the country club of the community, so in hindsight, I can understand the adults' attention for their looks and whatever. I probably was tired of waiting for them. My poor family searched all over town, while my mother had several fainting spells, as they thought I was abducted. Then, someone thought of the beach. They found me there playing on the sand, all happy and agrin.
Do I want to re-live the sweetness of my childhood antics back? Nope! I don't like any backview or hindsight for things that'll never come back.
This is because, I believe, in a child's mind, those days couldn't be carefree or enchanting for children depend on adults and their whims and kids have little to do or say in most things due to their lack of life experiences.
Childhood and its antics cannot be considered sweet and carefree, even when looking back with an adult's eyes. Plus, I have difficulty in believing in the assumption that a little chaos can be harmonious in the grand orchestration of life. Wouldn't no chaos be better?
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