Write now~
The formatting, printing and publishing of your writing-not so much fun. My book may take a few weeks longer to get printed than I hoped, due to both author and printer mistakes that are being remedied as you read this. I'll be happy to share what I've learned if you bring your writing to the point of wanting to publish. Keep good chocolate on hand, it helps.
Now for some writing prompts and work from The Laurels.
Prompt-a photograph of children
by A
The photos were scattered all over the dining room table. Momma and I were sorting through them—linking up which parts of our family tree each photo fitted.
I saw an adorable trio of young children in one photo, all wearing leather lace up shoes. Not immediately recognizing the faces, I gazed at each in turn.
The boy on the left, with his cap brim riding low over his eyes; his head tilted back, and arm draped protectively over the younger girl next to him. He had an air of mischief and devotion. The little sister in the middle, looking like she wanted to smile, but seeing to forget how when the camera clicked. Her hands were poised tentatively, reflecting indecision.
And the final child, a boy who seemed to be the middle child, but stood on the right here. He with the confident smile, the one who knew things would be as they were meant to be. He who would follow the rules, love with all his heart and outlive the other two because he was strong enough to bear the grief.
Prompt-Ghosts
Set Free Your Ghosts-by R
I saw a host of crows
Flying today
Bending the wind
To carry them away
In among the black
Was so much blue
It made me think of you
When you give up the fight
And set free your ghosts
It’s the breath of life
That matters most
Those sutras and scriptures
And guidebooks to Grace
All lead us to
The very same place
In Memoriam-by J
The poet asked
What do you want to be remembered for?
Number of kisses received,
Flowers planted, tears
Wiped away without words?
She was serious.
Stop right now, name
The things that others
Love about you.
Box up those framed degrees
And crystal awards
Engraved with your name.
Open a dusty book
From the shelf
And let fall the
Pressed leaves of autumn; listen
To the wind.
What matters is this:
You breathed
And all that followed
Touched air, rose,
Is rising still.
