With autumn soon coming, I find myself in a nostalgic state that always comes when the air grows cold and leaves begin changing colours. This year, however, it's different. Instead of just thinking, it's made me write. I want to finish those stories I've started. I want to write more poetry. I want to take myself out of a mindset of dreaming of the things I could discover on pen and paper and acting on those dreams instead.
I thought I might share a few poems on here. I can't guaranty how soon they'll be put up on here, but for now, here's my first poem:
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| photo from the Internet |
My Place of Solitude
I know a place of solitude
It's down the road a stretch.
I can go there when I need to
Have a place to sort my thoughts.
It's a spot down at the river
Where it makes a little bend.
I found my special "Thinking Rock" there
For quiet reigns as king.
As the peaceful river
Goes gliding along
And the glow of the sun is reflected
Like a thousand diamonds in the water
It soothes and rests my soul,
And I can ponder the countless ages past
Or consider all that can be
In the days yet to come.
Time itself is apt to stand still
In my place of solitude.
As the peaceful river
Goes gliding along
And the glow of the sun is reflected
Like a thousand diamonds in the water
It soothes and rests my soul,
And I can ponder the countless ages past
Or consider all that can be
In the days yet to come.
Time itself is apt to stand still
In my place of solitude.
perhaps I neglected to leave a comment here when this post was fresh because after reading your poem I felt as I do now upon reading it again: UTTERLY #SPEECHLESS.
ReplyDeletelike, I would buy an anthology of your poems if it cost me—dare I say all my savings? •-•
in love with you + your enamouring gift with words,
L.