I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

27 September 2015

Now if I write ...

Now if I write
and go on writing, 
what will happen next?

Will the air fuse

with my regrets and hopes
and give them colours?

Or shall I end up

with a sad scrap of nothing?

Couldn't resist another stab at the 'allegro' for Play it Again at 'imaginary garden'.


  1. subdued colors are as lovely as vibrant colors - often more soothing. So not sad scraps here :)

  2. Love "will the air fuse with my regrets and hopes and give them colours?" sounds to me like the start of something else....l.l.stevenson

    1. Yes, these quick things could lend themselves to being expanded later.

  3. great questions! something to ponder maybe

  4. I've heard that really really hot writing can result in fire and a pile of ashes.

  5. ....i love the second stanza.....

  6. I hardly think so.. The more we write the better it gets

  7. I wonder this all the time... and even if it is a "sad scrap of nothing" I plan to continue to write. But, like Bjorn, I think it makes us better.

  8. Who is to say what will become of all this writing we do... perhaps it is the process rather than the result which carries the worth of the exercise.

  9. I think both your pain and joy are transmuted into something beautiful. xx