The Aspiring Bard

October 24, 2012 A small grey house In a quiet spot, A dog, a cat, and a garden plot. Isn't much, But it's my ideal. Dreamy planning (Nothing real). A small grey house With brooding pines Where I can sit and make my lines. October 25, 2012 Fearful captives, Laboring in chains. A groaning Earth, Soaked through with bloody stains. All creation... I must set it free? No, not my strength, But that of Him in me. The power to restore, Refresh, renew. To shape the twisted paths And make them true. The power to redeem A human soul - To heal a heart and make it Truly whole - It comes, Not from my hand, but from above. And I am nothing... A mere conduit of love. Inspiration, once she comes in and sits down, is terribly reluctant to leave. I need to find The 'off' switch in my brain - The one that says 'Quit rhyming And let me fall asleep!' This really has nothing to do with my day. I just have these random thoughts...not really...

For the time being, and until I get distracted by something else or this challenge is no longer both challenging and fun, I'm trying to write a short poem every day. I'm being patient with myself, not demanding that every line be written, re-worded, and written again until it satisfies me perfectly. But, at the same time, I'm not just sloppily putting down whatever comes into my head with no revision whatsoever. I realize that I'm walking a fine line here, and at some point I'll probably fall to one side or the other. If I stop enjoying this, I'll stop doing it. I wasn't sure at first if I wanted to share these poems on the blog, but in the end I decided to go for it, since these may be the only new content you'll see all week.  October 17, 2012 Brown-and-yellow day Of middle-fall - My mood; The earth-rich brown Of industry (To match my new-dyed skirt). Some coffee, tea, A stroll through Breezy woods Of rusted yellow. A day of sunless rain,...

The beautiful, The ancient things Have broken, Battered, Steady wings To catch the wind And fly away, Leaving me In modern day.