| 
 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)  
 
 | 
	 Everyday Canvas   
 ![My Blog's Graphic  [#1126709]
Kathleen-613's creation for my blog](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)  
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself." 
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
 ![Blog City image small  [#1971183]
Blog City image small](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)  
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 
 
![Blog City Citizen image  [#1979138]
Marci's gift sig](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
 
 February 13, 2019 at 12:33pm February 13, 2019 at 12:33pm 
		
			| 				 | 
		 
Prompt: "As we said goodbye late that afternoon, I thought: Don't go, I want you in my life. And in a sense, she didn't go." Write a poem or anything you want about a friend who made you feel this way. 
---- 
 
To My Best Friend 
 
When we were kids, you said, 
“All I want is to paint,” 
and I said, 
“All I want is to write.” 
You said, “I paint, and 
you write, such great combination,” 
 
but life is a home with many rooms 
a different décor in each 
and we got lost in different quarters 
trying to be unpredictable, 
although going with the flow, 
and how fragile  
were the wishes 
of youth! 
 
Now that the years have fled, 
you’ve begun to paint 
I’ve begun to write, 
untangling ourselves slowly 
from that home with many rooms, 
at the start of whatever comes next, 
and we both sing to each other 
in our secret language 
feeling our connection. 
from miles apart. 
 
 				 | 
		 
	 
 © Copyright 2024 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. 
 |