A striking flower.
A well of knowledge.
A mirror that reflects all the paths I’ve walked down, all the doors that I’ve opened on this journey.
My feet wander on, eyes, mouth, ears opened, soaking in the voices.
The voices that talk to me, lead me, tell me stories of old and new.
More paths are taken, more doors are open.
My feet keep walking, surrounded by the whispering voices.
The voices that murmur pieces of information, the information that glue themselves to me, forming a cover, as though I have a second skin.
The sprinkles of colour that dance across my ebony page.
The sprinkles of paint, the thousands of people that crowd the world.
Waiting, watching, listening.
Straining their ears to hear the voices.
The voices that share their bountiful wisdom with us.
Explaining which paths to take and which ones to avoid.
The voices that encourage us to tell others, show others, help others.
Years ago, in Gallipoli,
Young men fought for you and me.
Digging their trenches, and living it rough,
It’s the least to say that conditions were tough.
But on they fought, body’s weary,
Life didn’t seem very cheery.
But when the war was over at last,
Something happened, quite a contrast.
On Flanders field which was dotted with graves,
Flowers grew, pure shock they gave.
Scarlett poppies the land yields,
Inspiring the poem, ‘In Flanders Field.’
Shiny, crackling foil sits, protecting luscious hunks of chocolate.
Bunnies peer from tables, while little sweet and sticky eggs peek out from nooks and crannies.
They wait and wait, until the moment comes when a chubby hand reaches out and plucks them from their hiding spot.
Noise erupts as children (and adults😊) shout with glee at their discovery.
Glistening wrappers are removed, their inside treat being popped into ready mouths.
Oozing, melted chocolate spreads over delighted tounges, making them tingle with the rich and diverse flavours.
When the chocolate is all dissolved, the consumers are left with the joyful aftertaste, beckoning them to indulge just a little more……
Hello everyone and HAPPY EASTER!!!
Tell me I’m not the only one that feels a bit giddy inside when Easter rolls around (especially when my fridge is stocked with chocolate:). It’s such a lovely event that always flares up my inner child, and flares up my ability to gorge on chocolate without ever seeming full😉. Well, I do seem to get full when my chocolate supply is running low. Surely we’ve all been there before; spread out across the couch, one leg dangling off it while your arm lazes about with melted chocolate on your fingers. I’ve had a wonderful Easter, and I hope you have one too. If you like, write your funniest Easter moment in the comments below. I would love to hear from you!
Normally, I don’t base posts on myself, but I would really appreciate your advice on something. As you know, I’m a blogger, and writing is my way of expressing emotions that can say locked up like gems in a safe. But lately, I’ve been struggling to produce any posts that really satisfied me or any that continue to spark my creativity. It seems that everything I jot down is fake. It doesn’t come from the heart, it’s coming from the mind. My emotions feel bottled up, like when you shake sparkling water quite aggressively and then refuse to open the lid! The bubbles keep trying, fizzing and hissing, determined to escape; just like how my emotions are trying to burst out of their bottle. Have you ever gone through this before? Do you have any tips or tricks that might help me? If so, please write them down in the comments below. I would love to hear from you!
Thanks for all your support,
Time slips by like sand through my fingers;
I desperately try to stop the grains leaving, my scrabbling fingers reaching out, until I know it’s too late.
Moments come and go, leaving me with only seconds to figure out my next steps.
I tread gently, careful not to wake the minutes that already leave briskly.
So much time, yet so little.
The grains dance, darting in and out in and out, oblivious to the fact that every turn they take whips a minute, a second, out of my grasp.
The dance continues, twisting, turning, shifting, yearning, until all I have left is one grain.
A grain of time.
A second to think.
A tanka poem is a kind of Japanese poetry that follows a simple syllable method. 🗒Tanka poems are similar to haiku poems, but they are a bit different. For example, tanka poems have 5 lines, while haiku’s only have three. In this post, I will be explaining how to write a tanka poem, and hopefully, (if you don’t already know), a new kind of poetry will be introduced to you!😊
SYLLABLES AND LINES
Unlike other kinds of poetry, such as limericks, tanka poems do not need to rhyme. 🙂They follow a series of lines and syllables. Tanka poems have 5 lines, and on each line is a specific number of syllables you should have. The syllable pattern is this: 5 7 5 7 7. The first line has 5 syllables, the second line has 7, the third has 5, the fourth has 7, and the fifth has 7.
TRIAL AND ERROR
Trial and error is needed in tanka poems (so I’ve found😀). When you finish writing a line, make sure to go back over it and check if you have the right amount of syllables. You may find that you’ll have to tweak it a bit, but in my opinion, that’s all part of the fun!
WRITING TANKA POEMS
Now your ready to start writing tanka poems! Just in case your still a little stuck, here are some examples of ones I wrote.😆
Teetering on edge,
Spellbound by the melody,
Can’t think strait or see,
Wondering what way is up,
Before I slip and let go.
Flowers dotting fields,
Summer breeze enticing me,
It’s warm and gentle,
Bee’s buzz by, their busy and free,
My eyes close so I can dream.