Dear Ones,
This week I planned on
posting a poem…however poems are like cats.
They don’t come when they’re called.
Yes, I have the nouns and the verbs and a few sizzling adjectives but somehow
nothing is stringing together. No
poem.
Count on it. Tonight as I drift off to sleep, it will all
come together. A nuanced nifty poem
perfect for my blog. Of course, I’ll
forget it by morning. I do have a
notebook by my bed but most of the time, I lack the oomph to rise up and write
so I tell myself I’ll remember. I
won’t. I can barely remember where my
car is parked. Saturday in Dallas at a
large mall, I was clueless. Where had I
parked? Thank God for the clicker. I held it up and way down the line of cars, a
trunk opened. Hurray, I found my
car.
Back to poems. They say poems reside in the heart. I like that.
I’m never sure where mine start.
Mostly they roll around in my head till birth. And like a new baby they come when they are
ready. No sooner.
I am getting some
verbal feedback on this blog. Heard from
Carol and also Laurie who liked the post about the favorite time in your
day. She also has a back porch
swing. Would love to hear from more of
you.
This is the first time
I’ve aired my thoughts on the web and I admit it’s a strange feeling. Who’s reading this, I ask myself? Maybe no one.
Maybe I’m just singing in the shower and nobody is listening. Then I meet someone out and about and they tell
me they liked the post about weddings or my poem about marriage. Or my friend
Peggy emails me with a supportive comment.
Oh I’m in high cotton then.
My target audience is you…all you beautiful
old broads that are coping with life and trying to make sense of it. Me too.
So I’ll keep on blogging. Every Friday.
“If the odds are good—chances are
the goods are odd”
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