I now find that the stories I was trying to work on to post and further along are behind me. I am thoroughly overtaken with my inspirations for poems. Have written 8 in the last month. Finding my inspiration in my life, my friends and in nature thus far.
Watching the moon on the drive home just after dark last night I found words flooding my head. Got home and shooed away my daughter in order to finish my thoughts. That poem is perhaps my best thus far.
Wrote poems for and about two friends and about smoke just on Friday alone. Three in one day. In school, poetry amazed, scared and thrilled me all at the same time. When the assignment in class was to write my own, I was one of the ones who froze - solid. I had no idea how to start. Now I can't seem to stop once I get going and it takes very little to get me started.
Totally ecstatic that my daughter's teachers find her ability to come up with story ideas is uncanny. She writes and writes in class. The teacher said she has an excellent voice in her writing. It thrills me that she is able to put so much of herself out there in her work. It has taken me until my ripe old age here to get to this point in my work.
I hope that those of you taking a look at what I have produced are satisfied that I am painting a clear picture that is both interesting and touching for you.