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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.
 
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Daily Cascade
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas "  became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one.
Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.
December 13, 2025 at 1:58pm December 13, 2025 at 1:58pm
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Prompt:
Do you make cookies, candy, breads for family and friends during the holidays?
If so, what's your favorite to make?
If you don't make treats, what's your favorite to receive?
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I do make treats for the holidays but not to give them as gifts. I offer them to those who come to visit and if they comment or like the treat, they get some of that treat to take home with them.
As to the second question, my favorite treats depend on my time and what I have purchased. A few of them are pumpkin-based and others are old-world treats.
Then, when it comes to receiving gifts, I don't really have a strict idea, but I appreciate the most something done especially for me, like a poem written for me or a painting or drawing made by the gift-giver. As such, one of the favorite gifts I received was a potholder and a kitchen towel with my name embroidered on them. The beauty of such a gift is in its intimacy and alchemy of surprise. They turn the mundane into the extraordinary, implying that even the smallest details of my life are worth noticing and encouraging.
In today's world driven by haste, a thoughtful gift is an act of rebellion. It refuses to settle for showing off but offers intention. It reminds me that the most precious things are not things at all, but moments of understanding, wrapped in tender hope that it might bring a smile to my face.
Also, as much as I appreciate all gifts, I feel a little sad when a gift-giver with small means has gone out of his or her way to give me something expensive. I think a gift is a mirror of sorts. It reflects who the gift-giver is as well as how the gift-giver sees the me, the receiver. For that reason alone, the most appreciated gifts show thoughtfulness, not grandeur or riches.
And today, just a few minutes ago, a surprise for me! Funny the coincidence, but while writing this entry, I received a lovely package from a friend far away. I stopped writing to unwrap the package. Inside it, is a large pink spiral notebook, a small black spiral notebook, and a set of retractable ball-point pens. This is probably after I told her on the phone I preferred writing long-hand. There is also a note, attached to the notebook with the pink cover that says, "No wonder! Writing long-hand is for the brainy people!" Now, I'm tickled pink all the way to high heaven, in all my idiosyncratic, ordinary complexity!
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