Blog Calendar
    October     ►
SMTWTFS
  
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
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
#963220 added July 26, 2019 at 1:24pm
Restrictions: None
People
Prompt: Tell us about someone you wish you could see again.

---

Old age is frugal. We don’t want to overcrowd our lives with nonsense or unusable things.

Yet, this is not so when it comes to people. People I love make my blood sing, and there are so many of them, and so many of them have charmed me enough that I can’t wait to see them or get enough of them.

This is why, although the prompt is asking for any one person, I can’t pick a single one of the people I’d love to see again. So, I’ll write about all people as if a single entity. As I see it!

The most amazing thing about people is that they can turn from angels and good fairies into demons and ferocious beings and back again, at the drop of a hat. This is a startling view, I know, but it is also like magic that makes who people are intensify in my mind’s eye.

Who they are is warm and loving or who they are makes me shiver, even freeze, but that may change in an instant. So, I try to cast my gaze further and try to figure them out. While doing that, I try to figure me out, too, as I am one of them.

Maybe just who people are changes with the moon. When the moon is full and is ringed with gold or silver, it may be the sign of sweetness. Then, when it dims and goes dark and missing-in-action, all is not lost because then, I can see the stars, knowing full well that the sweetness will be back in no time.

Then, maybe I am just a witch hung up on the moon.



© Copyright 2019 Joy-the Harpy Witch (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Joy-the Harpy Witch has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
... powered by: Writing.Com
Online Writing Portfolio * Creative Writing Online