To Write is Simply a Mystery to Me
I cannot say I know
For that would not be true
Each little poem
Comes from who knows where
I do not even know what inspires
What is the source of my desire
I simply know I want to write
To put it down
Perhaps it is for safe keeping
Along the way
And maybe just to make notes
Of where I am and what is seen
It happens every now and then
And I never know if it will happen again
Maybe it is just to share with you
The little things life brings to me
April 30, 2019
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http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com
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To Stop or Not to Stop, That Is the Question
As a painter
I ask myself all the time
Should I stop, now?
Or should I continue?
…Until I have painted all the life from the painting
Removed all the mystery
Turned the freshness into “stale old bread”
It is hard to quit
Maybe I think, just one more stroke
That will get it
Not wanting to leave any stone unturned
I want to do what I can do
Create a piece of work
Keep the freshness
Stop traffic
And reach satisfaction
April 30, 2019
Note: I have added a piece I am working on. The question is always with me.
https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/2019-april-pad-challenge-day-30 https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/2019-april-pad-challenge-day-30