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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Green Peas at Stake #494583 added March 12, 2007 at 6:45pm Restrictions: None
Garden and A Shortie
Garden
The flowers in tacit formation
arrange the beds to their liking,
as they ascend from dirt and dung,
with colors like wavering constellations
separating themselves from the green.
But I stare ahead at the snail
with horns erect
flaunting courage, creeping,
leaving a trail that glistens in the sunlight;
like a fledgling poet,
it empties its insides
along scattered lines
with cut-up meanings.
A Shortie
The feisty red yarn
in a child’s hand
is searching for
a grandma.
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© Copyright 2007 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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