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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. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Everyday Canvas
#984978 added June 4, 2020 at 9:10am
Restrictions: None
Picnicking
Prompt: A picnic is more than just a meal. It is a pleasurable state of mind. What foods do you like to eat at a picnic?

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I used to love picnics when I was very young. Later on, neither my husband nor I cared for them very much. Once a couple literally forced us to go to a picnic in a park with picnic tables when a whole group of people had come together. We knew everyone there and we had been invited, too, but we had declined. There were all kinds of food and tablecloths and flatware and dishes. It really wasn’t much different than a dinner party at a home. I guess it was okay, but it just wasn’t our thing.

When I was little, we used to cover the ground with a large cotton blanket and we sat right on top or it, eating finger foods from baskets, which I used to love. In my old age, sitting on the ground is taboo for me because I’ll need someone to lift me up, unless I move on all fours and do some weird calisthenics to stand on my two feet again, and that can be quite a show for those who watch and an embarrassment for me.

If there’s a table and a chair, a sandwich or a salad could be perfect, and I may go along with it. To tell the truth, I don’t even like to eat outside on my porch where there’s a table and chairs. I guess I am not much of a picnicking person. As they say, to each her own.



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