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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. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Everyday Canvas
Kathleen-613's creation for my blog

"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN


Blog City image small

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


Marci's gift sig










This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.

April 27, 2016 at 2:15pm
April 27, 2016 at 2:15pm
#880573
Prompt: "Flowers are the alphabet of angels, whereby they write on the hills and fields mysterious truths." Benjamin Franklin This is beautiful. What are your views on this?

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Beautiful, yes. At least, beautifully said. Much better than the generic, ‘flowers are nice.’

Referred to any old way, angelic or not, flowers cast their perfume and radiance over us wherever they show up. They may sway wildly in the breeze raising their heads from the cracks in the stones or they may stretch like royalty in cultivated beds.

Their "mysterious truths" must have something to do with offering consolation and delight as well as generating a great respect for the Higher Power's skills of creation. Who wouldn’t want to stroll among the flowers and dream of the splendor of everything nice and meaningful? (“Tiptoe through the tulips” is teasing my mind now and it might stick through the rest of the day. *Laugh*)

If flowers could walk, they would rush near and wrap us in their arms to ease our fatigue, but like all things lovely, they expect us to go to them, to grow and take care of them, so in return, they can adorn our lives and make our survival on this planet more enjoyable.


just when you thought
you were remote, standoffish
I moved closer
and you greeted me
with a luminous burst of colors




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