Monday 13 April 2015
NaPoWriMo 13
Wanted by the world am I,
oft in desperate short supply,
life's pursuit and worries' root, more
dear than any heap of loot,
hid in all the simplest things, like
flying kites or plucking strings,
found in unexpected places,
remedy for dismal faces,
onto me you all must cling,
I am a fleeting, fickle thing,
find me and the stars you'll bless, for
I am your own happiness.
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Paint Poem
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
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Day Nineteen In our village by the mountain, there lived A man p eople called The Wrestler , It was long ago, when my dad was a kid. He - ... -
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio... -
Day Twenty Fantastic style designs on pottery from Hacilar. Image from Yakar 2005. The ancients believed That culture was Construed by pot...
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