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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 #993854 added September 21, 2020 at 11:28am
Restrictions: None
Autumn and Poets
For "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" 
Prompt: “When leaves have to let go of the tree, they wear their best colors and they dance all the way to the ground.”
Karen Kingsbury, Finding Home
What do you think of autumn, and why is it difficult to let go of things or people we become used to, unlike the leaves?
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Who doesn’t love autumn leaves in all their splendid colors! Their charm and appeal are boundless for the simple reason that they have matured under the sun.
Yet, autumn means change. How we judge or adapt to change will predict how much we love or hate this season. After all, what follows it is winter, and unless one is lucky, winter is difficult on most of the places in the world.
Autumn also refers to the time's passing drip by drip like the autumn rain, with weekdays following one another in a row just as the months and years do. This passing of time makes us get used to people and whatever we love, or in other words, whatever and whoever has tamed us. Then, as time passes, like the autumn leaves falling off the trees, our loved ones also leave while the traces of their images become just as colorful as the leaves of autumn, and the bare branches they’ve left behind are just as desolate looking and painful.
As St. Exupery’s Little Prince said, “One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets oneself be tamed...”
For: "Space Blog"
Prompt: From Stormy Lady   ’s "Never Love A Poet"
"Never love a poet, she warns..."
Why should we never love a poet?
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I used to love (still do in hindsight) Stormy’s forum. I don’t think I ever missed a prompt of hers, then.
As to the question, I think Stormy answered it best: “Their hearts beat too strongly to hold.”
I think it is also because poets are already married to poetry and anyone who loves them will be no more than a mistress or the male equivalent of it. Poets will always obey the muse, and not always mind their partners. Then some, if not most, fall in and out of love very easily. Unless you want to be the spare tire in their trunk, you better set your sights on someone more stable.
In addition, not many poets write or talk openly. You need to have the ability to pinpoint and understand the metaphors and the like. Then, your poet doesn’t always mean what s/he says, either, although their words are their truths at the moment. Plus, anything you say, do, or think can and will be held against you, and there, in communication, lies the greatest challenge you’ll ever face.
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