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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Given: Jun 8, 2024 at 4:05pm
Length: 1,152 Characters |
1,066 w/o WritingML
Greetings and Happy Account Anniversary!
Another brief tale from your collection. The premise of those awful big box bargain basement gnomes taking over the neighborhood with moss is quaint and absurdly, darkly amusing. One can apply the theme to different situations; it makes me think of the issues of litter and âtrendy trashâ that goes from the store to the landfill all too quickly with disastrous consequences. I also canât help being reminded of what itâs like to live in Florida for any length of time - Spanish moss has the same insidious properties of dank, humid, âmurderousâ takeover that your fairytale moss does. Indeed, I suspect Spanish moss is the cause of a lot of sickness that goes around down here in the tropics. Bleh.
It also reminds me of the âpillar of saltâ story of Lotâs wife; one single failure or moment of weakness led to her demise, even as she understood the source of the problem. Youâve made a quick and creative tale which was a fun read.