(Carrie's spot at the library circulation desk) Linking with Imaginary Gardens for Bits of Inspiration ~ Mixed Media Art brought to you and imagined by Susie Clevenger
Silence was never written down. ~Italian Proverb
I spend most of my time at work sitting at a circulation desk where people check out books and pay late fees discussing their day and their favorite series or author while children laugh and young adults and old ones as well talk on their cell phone
Courtesy Google Images If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet,then you must write it. ~Toni Morrison
Stories..... we all have one.... some love printed ones... others have a favorite.... and we all enjoy to have one read to us when we are a child. But in the course of things, some of us remain readers and others become writers. I am not sure what triggers the difference. Does a writer just have so much they want to say to the world that they have no choice in the matter? I only know that when I was a child writing gave me
a certain peace.
As an adult, writing went on the back burner for a long while, raising small children and learning to be on my own, however one day I decided to carry on.
I picked up a pen and a note pad and turned into a mad scientist with words. Most of my waking moments I spent dwelling on ideas and thoughts that I wanted to write into poetry. I cleaned houses for a living and would jot notes on the job and I kept a journal …
One thing is certain and I am sure of it that life is full of uncertainties if you are breathing then you have learned this as well change is inevitable it happens effortlessly like slipping in the rain or spilling popcorn
"Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud." ~Hermann Hesse
You know the old saying? "Children are to be seen, and not heard.", as a child I heard that line more times than I care to admit. There was a certain expectation then of children. A respect that needed no words only a look that spoke volumes of dismay with one stone hard glance. There are certain silences that move through years like time travelers, whispering in our ear and telling us what to think and what to do for years to come. Being the daughter of the time of silence, I have spent my entire adulthood trying to be heard. The following is my contribution to Poets United's Midweek Motif ~Conversation Come join us!
I learned to sing at a young age sitting on the bus carrying my voice loud and strong against the loud engine of the bus no one was listening only bugs that flew in the open window at my seat it was a wonderful feeling to belt out a tune with my ow…
Hush city Let my heart follow where it will to the tallest mountains and the river's rill You see my soul has already wed nature's call where feet may wander and may also fall like lonely hearts that search the shore and always leave wanting more Sshhhh no city block can fill the void nor lure me in to it's inner noise for I was betrothed at a tender time to take a path that leads to a mountain pine where the sky reins and trees abound a place where birds follow and know the sound hush can you hear it? I can.......
Google Images photo