Hi All
My goodness...on this beautiful early fall day with blinds up and windows open, allowing gentle winds to invisibly swirl around the room, I listen to the nearby leaf blower and the hedge trimmer and the passing vehicles ruin the silence of the afternoon. But am, at the same time, thankful for these sounds. It's the beautiful sound of people working and putting food on their tables and improving the grounds of the apartment complex where I live.
I cannot count the number of days I've sat at my computer or with pen and paper in hand writing verse I so very much hoped would be seen by inquisitive and curious eyes, listening to leaves finding new locations and bushes taking recognizable shapes. Strangely, these mechanical sounds are reminders of appreciated moments of leisure - moments within which I have been able to express my feelings and thoughts into verse.
It's on days, like today, that I find inspiration - inspiration I cannot find in board room gatherings or during Zoom meetings with professional colleagues. Moments like these allow me to refocus and look in a different direction. The ability to look inward and discover undiscovered words.
When the gentle breeze enters my inner-sanctum, I feel the comfort and motivation to create something new. My fingers type upon the unsuspecting keyboard or my pen embraces the untouched skin of virginal paper.This is how verse is created - it's the momentary sounds of hedge trimmers and leaf blowers that speak to me - their mechanical sounds inspire me in a way nothing else can. It's the calm, among the whirling of their artistic machines, that pushes me into mental realms of creativity.
I appreciate these hard-working people and suspect they do not know their contributions to the words I write.
With that said, here is a poem I wrote many years ago. I wrote a series of 4-line poems that, to my surprise, were all quickly published by publishers looking for "short, but sweet" poems. Another poem in this series is included in my mini-book.
This isn't included in "My Anxiety Wants Ice Cream" but, of over 200 poems I've thrown in the garbage from those years, it has remained.
I hope you enjoy!
