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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 #994090 added September 24, 2020 at 10:51am
Restrictions: None
My Hero and Dog-Walking
Prompt: Who was your childhood hero?
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My childhood and all-time hero is one of my uncles. Only because he gave me his attention and encouraged me toward what was important to me, which were the arts, writing, and literature. While others in my family were very nice to me also, none of them could act like him. They all saw to it that I lacked nothing material and they were kind, but that special attention by my special uncle has always been something else.
I guess my uncle took it upon himself to care for my emotional well-being when my father died when I was little. I don’t know what makes any human being take care of another’s child in the exact way that child needs it.
At the time, my inclinations and interests were not met with enthusiasm by most of the people in the family as everyone expected me to be like my father and become a physicist or something like it, eventually. While a few people kept saying there was no future in what I liked to do, my uncle told me to do what I wished to do, and the rest would take care of itself because doing something one’s heart is not in is hell on earth, even if financially positive and some fame is guaranteed.
My uncle didn’t only encourage me when he saw me, but he took me to stay with him, together with his wife and three children, for days and weeks at an end during my school vacations and gave me his full attention.
I’ll never forget my uncle, and I think people like him have a very special place in Heaven, within God’s quarters.
For: "Space Blog" 
Prompt: From ♥noVember tHiNg♥   ’s "Walking My Humans"
“I still like to walk these humans of mine.”
Write about walking a dog from it's perspective and views.
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When I see a dog walking its human, I always think, ‘Now here’s a dog who should become the president.’ After all, it must take a genius to be tied to a leash and rule over the one holding the other end of the leash. This also means the owner of the dog, or the peasant who is ruled by the emperor dog, has not established the proper dog-handling protocol.
I imagine, the emperor dog probably would say:
“See how I get away with anything! I sniff, explore, pull my human hither and thither just for the fun of it, and I slow down when my human wants a brisk walk or run at a breakneck pace usually much faster than my human can. What can the human do but either fall sprawled on his face or let go of the leash. Usually, it is the latter, and then the real fun begins with my human running after me while I keep the other end of the leash beyond his reach.
Then, you wouldn’t believe this, but my frustrated human took me to an obedience school. I knew of his intentions very well, so I acted according to my own best interests. I became the most obedient dog in the class and I received the highest award and a badge at the end.
Yet, when the school was over and it was my human at the other end of the leash, the fun began again. I immediately dropped the idea of walking beside him and ran ahead. Glory be! I was the leader, once more.”
See, people, us humans can never win!
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