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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Mushrooms, Splinters, and Thorns #330485 added October 13, 2009 at 5:20pm Restrictions: None
In the Woods and Fireplace
In the Woods
No news from the affairs of the world
and no signs of anyone,
but the shimmering silk rays of the sun
threading their way through branches
to witness a million hues…
and marching with the seasons,
bird songs
like markers of time;
so I can still sit
on the same log
-inside my mind-
with forest all around me
thick and green,
to find my place
as a person who lost her way,
shattering words
for the sake of poetry,
to cause a rebellion
among true poets.
Fireplace
Passage of time
with reminiscences
of the bits and pieces of living
flickers
like a fading fire
towards the camera lens
within me,
like a sip of warm tea
for my thirsting soul,
as reflections soldered together
with my clichéd words,
and time stands hand-cuffed,
while I still breathe and blink
at the ashes
in my fireplace.
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© Copyright 2009 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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