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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.
![Joy Sweeps [#1514072]
Kiya's gift. I love it!](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
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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.
![Rainbow/cascade [#1887119]
image for blog](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
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Prompt: Fishing
Have you ever gone fishing or been on a fishing trip? If so, what was your favorite part of the trip?
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During my pre-teens and a bit earlier, my two uncles used to take me with them on the boat when they went fishing. I loved being in an open boat in the middle of the sea with fresh air, sunshine, and the smell of the salty water. Even more than all that, I liked being on the boat with my uncles, since I enjoyed our conversations because I always learned from them, especially the younger uncle who was deeply into literature and he had met and was friends with some famous poets and authors at the time. Looking back, the only reason I loved those trips were my uncles, and not the fish.
I say not the fish because I never liked to see the fish pulled out of the sea, thrashing for air, and I turned away when the fish was being taken out of the hook. Once the older uncle who might have thought I was being a sissy, made me hold the rod and said, "You won't know what you are missing until you try." So I did, hoping the fish wouldn't bite, but it did. Then, I had to turn the reel, slowly at first, then fast, to pull the fish in.
All was fine so far, until the fish was in the boat. At that moment, I handed the rod to my uncle and escaped to the end of the boat, and while doing so, making the boat rock. Luckily, nothing went overboard and the boat didn't sink.
After this incident, when my uncles went fishing, they only asked me to join them out of politeness. I knew they didn't mean to take me with them again, but just to show that I appreciated their kindness, I still went once or twice and that was that.
It isn't that I don't like the taste of fish. I do and a lot. But the fish I eat is already dead and I don't have to kill it to eat it.
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