|
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.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
|
Poets' Practice Pad << Previous • Message List • Next >>
It is not without some forethought
That I have forgotten once again
To tell you to remember
To not forget my friend
In hopes it will remind you
Of that something you never knew
That something that you’ve forgotten
Because there's something you didn't do
And it must of slipped my mind
As it is I must admit
A matter I can’t remember
Because do I forget
as always,
wordsy.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
"a thin trail of whispers
across a wandering mind
faint flashes of fantasy
that I often find
merely jaded shadows
of who I used to be
they fill with words, my pages
for all the world to see"
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
|
|
The following section applies to this forum item as a whole,
not this individual post.
Any feedback sent through it will go to the forum's
owner, Joy.
|
