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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
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
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Prompt: “A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew, A cloud, and a rainbow's warning, Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue– An April day in the morning.”
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Where I am, this April morning is humid and hot. The kind of exquisite mornings the quote hints at, I said goodbye to those in February.
Although, at this time on 10:36 in the morning--according to the time on my laptop--I still have the doors and windows open, to air the house, and in another half-hour to an hour, I'll have to close everything and turn on the AC, since it is very humid today and the temp may hit high 80s or even a 90 something.
Yet, I remember April mornings of long ago in LI, NY, when we lived with our children in a house with a two-acre yard filled with oak trees and bird songs and perfect blue skies. But life goes on. Now my grown-up children have their own homes and lives, and I am left here by myself, although nothing's too bad, and I can't complain of the weather since the warmer climate is good for arthritis and its co-dwellers in my body.
So, I may go out on the porch in a little while and expose my knees to the direct beams of the sun to get the best kind of vitamin D3.
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Prompt: When life throws you a rainy day, play in the puddles. -- Winnie The Pooh
Write about this in your Blog entry today.
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To be frank, I’m all puddled out. Playing in the puddles, I suppose, is good when you’re a pooh bear, not when you’re an 80 yr. old woman.
I find, however, the idea of putting things into a sunnier perspective and allowing myself a moment of reflection--before jumping straight back into living the immediate life and handling the daily toil and challenges--works okay for me as it lets me see a situation through completely different eyes. And who knows, sometimes, I can even come up with a new way to tackle the challenges.
In general, though, writing down what needs to be taken care of and doing it immediately, knowing what may distract me, not multitasking if I can help it, and sticking to a daily ritual make my life go smoother.
Then, in every day affairs, being able to laugh at my own goof-ups helps, too. I guess that can be substituted for playing in the puddles.
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Prompt:"Make a Mistake"
Write a poem for the first day of National Poetry Month. Have fun.
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April One
soon April will commence fully
from beneath the surging time
when I have perched
on the edge of memory
where, through oak trees
a ghostly light shines
down on dark woods,
but here-around me-are
the Windmill Palms, their hands
opening high to the sky,
for blessed indeed
are the songs
of warblers and sparrows
yet, again, I'm a fool today
with my naive poetry
its lines executed so hastily
then to be left alone
like a wet painting
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© Copyright 2024 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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