I missed yesterday because I was in a lot of pain and could barely move my fingers. In case this blog is ever viewed by anyone who doesn't know me, I have MS. I was diagnosed almost 13 years ago now, and was blessed with about 10 years of remission. I have been in my worst state of relapse for about a year and 8 months.
Now that we have that out of the way, on to the important stuff: writing!
This is a piece I wrote this afternoon. It has gone through a small amount of editing. This is another assignment from the book Writing the Natural Way. In the assignment, the writer asks that you cluster around the word "color." After doing so, choose the color that stands out to you the most. Next, cluster around it until you get that "Aha!" moment and begin to write. (I'll be honest, while I did have a few "regular" colors,I may have used a few of the more oddly named colors from my childhood box of 64.)
After reaching the moment of writing, you are supposed to continue writing until you reach a point where you can end by recollecting the beginning. The reader is also supposed to somewhat
follow the style of Nancy Drummond's poem "Purple Wine."
My poem, entitled "Rose" attempts to do this. Although, it is quite a bit longer than "Purple Wine." I hope it will evoke some memories or emotions in some of the readers and that they will be kind enough to recount those in the comments!
Rose
While sitting and breathing
the scent of roses
across the porch swing,
remember the woven blanket
drawn from Mother’s chest
of drawers and snuggled
gently around you,
her shivering child;
the scarf flounced about
your neck, the only scrap
of femininity amidst the boys’
jacket and secondhand woolen cap;
the perfume of a beloved aunt
who died before you were old
enough to be ready.
Remember the picture
on your first diary
with the little gold lock
that gave you false assurance.
Remember the scent
you love as you sit
on the once-white swing
next to the flowering bush
your father planted
in memory of his sister
who died when you were ten.
Now that we have that out of the way, on to the important stuff: writing!
This is a piece I wrote this afternoon. It has gone through a small amount of editing. This is another assignment from the book Writing the Natural Way. In the assignment, the writer asks that you cluster around the word "color." After doing so, choose the color that stands out to you the most. Next, cluster around it until you get that "Aha!" moment and begin to write. (I'll be honest, while I did have a few "regular" colors,I may have used a few of the more oddly named colors from my childhood box of 64.)
After reaching the moment of writing, you are supposed to continue writing until you reach a point where you can end by recollecting the beginning. The reader is also supposed to somewhat
follow the style of Nancy Drummond's poem "Purple Wine."
My poem, entitled "Rose" attempts to do this. Although, it is quite a bit longer than "Purple Wine." I hope it will evoke some memories or emotions in some of the readers and that they will be kind enough to recount those in the comments!
Rose
While sitting and breathing
the scent of roses
across the porch swing,
remember the woven blanket
drawn from Mother’s chest
of drawers and snuggled
gently around you,
her shivering child;
the scarf flounced about
your neck, the only scrap
of femininity amidst the boys’
jacket and secondhand woolen cap;
the perfume of a beloved aunt
who died before you were old
enough to be ready.
Remember the picture
on your first diary
with the little gold lock
that gave you false assurance.
Remember the scent
you love as you sit
on the once-white swing
next to the flowering bush
your father planted
in memory of his sister
who died when you were ten.