Wednesday, January 23, 2019

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It’s been snowing all day long today. I’m inside a snow globe, and trees and shrubs across my office window are swathed in a magical shawl… tiny crystals on it shine and twinkle as if whispering some sorts of intermittent words; like a code that one most decipher, and it pulls you to it, and to the white bitterness outside.

We’re one—the snow and I. Both predestine to transpire and expire; attach to the core of earth and heaven; life and death. Dancing in the hands of the Spirit who scatters the snows and which mouth blows the winds; inexplicably made to his fancy—both the snow and I;... Read More

I love junk jewelry and love wearing my earrings and necklaces wherever I go. Particularly lovely to me are jewelry that resembles shiny stars hanging from my ears and itty bitty flowers around my neck. They give me some sorts of a mystical status. At least, that’s the way I feel when I wear my magical earrings.

Of course, as you would imagine, these earrings are not really magical, but I just like to call them that because that’s how they make me feel inside every time I wear them—a sparkle of magic swirling all inside and around me!

The other day, as I was putting on my favorite... Read More

Rain… rain is soothing; rainy days are a restful stop for the soul. And thus, it has been raining here all day today, and the early morning is wrapped in a gray mist that seems to be traveling the garden’s floor in some type of mystical waves; like sleepy phantoms.

And yesterday, in the garden, the air snapped with anticipation as magic evolved in the form of gentle flakes of snow. Like an unexpected apparition—snow; out of the bosom of the air it came, silent, and soft, and slow. Big fluffy flakes danced and meandered about the garden in the form of tiny delicate clouds; like... Read More

Writing can be extremely challenging. It can keep you from sleeping, eating, and being around people. It can cause you more stress than you can imagine when all you’re trying to do is produce a story which you love, and believe others will feel the same toward. You see, when you’re not writing just to please yourself, an audience of one, but to sell your story to the literary marketplace, it can quickly become one of the hardest actions you’ll ever do. You must be completely excited about the story, its characters, its places, sounds and energy; because if you don’t, others simply will not.... Read More


The defenders used my knowledge of the city to pass massages between the posts. I became a runner. We can’t see the posts from here, but they were nothing more than ordinary apartments: bedrooms, kitchens and living rooms. As the British often hunted for weapons and underground members, we kept the rooms inconspicuous, just like in any other poverty stricken room with piles of mattresses and blankets, washing bowls and dirty dishes.

The Quarter was under siege, and as we were always hungry, I took it upon myself to find food. I met with Salwa, my best friend, in our secret... Read More

Few things are more magical and exciting to me than sleeping in the garden under a starry sky. But when that is not doable, sleeping in a delightful hodgepodge of sheets and pillows in as many flowery patterns as possible is my very next favorite thing!

I don’t mind at all that every pillow shows a different pattern, or that neither sheets nor pillows match with each other. I don’t mind the mismatched combination of colors either, if they’re all pastels. I like different shades of pale pink together. There are so many shades of pink, and they all look beautiful together, to me.

... Read More

Act 1

Scene: She drops her glass upon being startled by a bird’s call. Time suspends, or more correctly, slows. The glass in it’s decent barely tilts, there being enough liquid to keep the glass’s center of gravity perpendicular to the surface below. As the moment of impact arrives, the glass has only just begun to tilt, and thus, strikes the paving stones upon one edge of the bottom of the glass, emitting a sharp rejoinder to the call of the bird across the plaza where the outdoor café is set. It shatters in slow motion, shards spraying mostly in the direction opposite of the edge... Read More

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Recent Comments

Musings Of A Poet

Agree Barb, throwing the baby out with the bath water 'aint the answer. Take care. :>)

Musings Of A Poet

I know Rigina, when it takes a week for legite comments to appear it is upsetting, and it is killing the site slowly. Surely there must be a better way to address the spammers and floggers. Also taking away ratings if you do not post in a period of...

Musings Of A Poet

ed i was one of the original complainers about people using this site to flog their stuff. Now legite comments don't show?