No I am not talking about that sort of pleasure when you shut the blinds, hope no-one comes home and makes you delete your internet history afterwards. I am talking about the simple pleasure of sitting down, thinking a good while then writing a story or poem inspired by your thoughts.
I personally do this quite a lot, but unfortunately I am the only person I know who does, and so I have no real idea of how many like me there are. I write both novels and poetry, although more often the latter due to lack of time really. Well anyway here is a taste of my latest work and please share your own! Oh by the way all usual rules apply, no being mean to each other, lets all play nice children =)
These bells that rang in their ears,
And calms this troubled mind,
The view I see from where I sit,
A sight where two tightly bind,
Many more sat here and more heard
The sound, More loved and lost and
Breathed this ground, For those who were born,
And for those whom this, is a burial mound,
From the highest lord to lowest hound
Pure and sweet the earth sits still,
Upon this once sacred hill,
How many sat and listened until,
Their sitting became lying on this ancient build?
Their breaths mimic mine in times to come,
And in times gone past, their breaths are done,
Under this blessed sky, under the moon and sun,
They all wait patiently, Mother, Daughter, Father and Son,
Twilight comes upon me now, as it has before,
As it did upon the holders, of now ancient lore,
But I wait as they did, and listen and sit,
I?ll be one of them, and I?ll do my bit,
For I am not the first, and there will be more,
Maybe one day, these words will be lore
I personally do this quite a lot, but unfortunately I am the only person I know who does, and so I have no real idea of how many like me there are. I write both novels and poetry, although more often the latter due to lack of time really. Well anyway here is a taste of my latest work and please share your own! Oh by the way all usual rules apply, no being mean to each other, lets all play nice children =)
These bells that rang in their ears,
And calms this troubled mind,
The view I see from where I sit,
A sight where two tightly bind,
Many more sat here and more heard
The sound, More loved and lost and
Breathed this ground, For those who were born,
And for those whom this, is a burial mound,
From the highest lord to lowest hound
Pure and sweet the earth sits still,
Upon this once sacred hill,
How many sat and listened until,
Their sitting became lying on this ancient build?
Their breaths mimic mine in times to come,
And in times gone past, their breaths are done,
Under this blessed sky, under the moon and sun,
They all wait patiently, Mother, Daughter, Father and Son,
Twilight comes upon me now, as it has before,
As it did upon the holders, of now ancient lore,
But I wait as they did, and listen and sit,
I?ll be one of them, and I?ll do my bit,
For I am not the first, and there will be more,
Maybe one day, these words will be lore
