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.
![Joy Sweeps [#1514072]
Kiya's gift. I love it!](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
|
Daily Cascade
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas " became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one.
Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.
![Rainbow/cascade [#1887119]
image for blog](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
|
Prompt:
Have fun with these words: lesson, snarl, guitar, draft, length, rifle, acquaintance, funny and shift.
-------
His Guitar Hummed
a *snarl of wind beneath the moon
as his *guitar hummed a mournful tune
the *draft slipped through a broken pane
in the *length of night, as if a *refrain
and his *rifle rested by the hearth's gleam
like an *acquaintance in an old dream
conjuring up ghosts that drift and *shift
a *lesson taught, yet not *funny to uplift
the old cowboy on the strings strummed
and his guitar a sad tune it hummed
|
© Copyright 2025 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|