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'.
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12 comments:

  1. Margaret27 September 2015 at 12:08

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

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  2. Anonymous27 September 2015 at 12:18

    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

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    Replies
    1. Rosemary Nissen-Wade27 September 2015 at 12:19

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

      Delete
  3. Anonymous27 September 2015 at 12:43

    great questions! something to ponder maybe

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  4. Susan27 September 2015 at 13:36

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

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  5. Sumana Roy27 September 2015 at 16:17

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

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  6. brudberg27 September 2015 at 16:35

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

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  7. Debi Swim27 September 2015 at 23:49

    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.

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  8. Kerry O'Connor28 September 2015 at 03:07

    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.

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  9. Other Mary28 September 2015 at 10:34

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

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  10. Helen30 September 2015 at 01:36

    ... love this.

    ReplyDelete

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