Creative Writing Saturday

Dartmoor Hill Ponies, mare and foal

Dartmoor Hill Ponies, mare and foal (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A Blessing

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom. ~ James Wright

Creative Writing Saturday

Français : Courage

Français : Courage (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Courage
That My Mom Had

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me

The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have. ~ Edna St Vincent Millay

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Creative Writing Saturday

English: Pink storm clouds over Lake Erie

English: Pink storm clouds over Lake Erie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow. ~ Langston Hughes

Creative Writing Saturday

Important

We hurry through the so-called boring things in order to attend to that which we deem more important, interesting.

Perhaps the final freedom will be a recognition that everything in every moment is “essential” and that nothing at all is “important.” ~ Helen M. Luke

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