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


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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


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

April 4, 2015 at 7:20pm
April 4, 2015 at 7:20pm
#845833
Prompt: You've been invited to a spring food festival, celebrating farm fresh fruits, cheeses and meats. Why do you think food tastes better when it comes straight from a farm? Would you consider living on a farm? Why or Why not?

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This prompt is so after my heart, I can’t even begin to put it in words. Definitely, there is no alternative good enough for the freshly picked fruits and vegetables from one’s own garden or the produce from animals one builds a relationship with.

Although I am too old for farm life now, when we lived in NY, I wanted to move to a farm very much, but the vocations kept us in the city life My only comfort was the two-acre backyard in the shape of a hilly rectangle in Long Island. In that space, I fenced a large piece of land for raising organic vegetables and, in another section, roses. I had 55 different species of roses and one rose tree on which I grafted five different rose bushes. We also had fruit trees and many other plants and tall trees. It was the best time in I ever had, and thus began my love of farm life.

My sons and I tried to make my husband to agree to get a small farm, and we even had a piggy bank in which we put any coins or excess dollars we had for this venture, but he said, and rightfully so, “We know nothing about farm life. It’ll ruin us financially.” Even the existing farms that had come down from generations were going bankrupt at the time, so we didn’t have a leg to stand on with this wish. I still admire farmers and farm life, but not much hope or energy exists to deal with such a wish anymore.



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