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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 #987737 added July 10, 2020 at 10:35am
Restrictions: None
2020 and Dreaming
For "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" 
Prompt: Write an anecdote. According to Merriam-Webster.com an anecedote comes from the Greek word anekdota, which means unpublished. It is defined as a short short story concerning a funny or interesting occurrence or event.
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The year 2020 is like a killer bee’s menacing, unpredictable stab…Although a bee sting may look powerless, considering what 2020 has been when compared to the good old days This is exactly what I and my kids talked about when they came for a visit yesterday.
We all agreed upon the fact that this year’s sting has been (and is) so bad that we fear the good old days will soon be forgotten just like the old fairy tales of lore that are forgotten.
So, here is a fairy story. While every fairy thought that the nasty fairy among them was bewitched and now, she was dead and they were safe, the nasty fairy wasn’t dead. During the ceremony after Beauty’s birth, when the fairies bestowed gifts upon the newborn, the nasty fairy emerged to announce that Beauty would die from a tiny prick (like that of the killer bee’s). While everyone was shaken and terrified, another fairy came forth to adapt the old fairy’s spell to Beauty's sleeping for a hundred years. And you know the rest.
Same with 2020, the nasty fairy'spell and the killer bee of our lives. I am quite sure we’ll get through the stings of it without half the world’s population going six-feet below the ground.
Except none of us would want to sleep under its spell for a hundred years.
And now,I want to ask what happened? Who cursed us?
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Note--As much as this entry may not qualify to be considered an anecdote, this is what came out when I sat down to write. So, sorry prompt! Another day, another time.
For: "Space Blog Group"
Prompt: From "What happens to the Dreams?" [E] by Sharmelloween's Expressions 
Where do our dreams lead us? Don't chase your dreams, live them! Use this line in your Blog entry today.
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Although I have several dreams each night, I don’t dwell on them. In fact, I don’t dwell on any kind of dreams, maybe because I never wished nor attempted to stand the on podium of a superhero, saint, or goddess.
Granted that goal setting—-much better if done loosely--can make people work toward a destination, but this is as long as those goals are attainable. For the reason that dreams can be far-away, impossible things. Plus, aren’t dreams a form of enduring reality?
Or maybe dreams are our way of challenging reality, testing, and contesting it. As if flying in a night dream without wings, without falling, without demise, while altering the rules of the natural world.
What about when we wake up from any one kind of a so-called dream? Won’t that be our real fall?
Therefore, “Don't chase your dreams, live them,” is a bogus saying in my point of view. So, I think maybe it is a good idea to wake up, look around at where we are, and take it from there.
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