Inspiration

Happy Anniversary Ginni Bites

Apparently today is the three year anniversary of my blog. I don’t have a special poem prepared or anything and it was a nice little surprise that it remembered at all.

Though, I would like to give out my thanks to everyone who has read, liked, commented on my posts over the years: it really does mean more than I can express. You guys are awesome, especially those who seem like dependable online friends, interaction with you all has been something I never expected.

I may not always be active or extra talkative but I do appreciate you and your blogs, and your wonderful prompts and inspiration. Long may they continue to keep me sane (ish) as I pour over your words and in turn leave you with mine.

Thank you all, and in the words of a great muse.

Namaste *winks*

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Winds of change

Ever get those days when you feel on the very edge of change and you fear somewhere deep inside that something unknown is about to snap and leave you blowing about in the wind. You get that little unsettling feeling in your stomach as it lurches towards the what ifs and the who knows, and the knowledge that you are not in the safe and secure place that you imagined yourself to be in.

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SOC: Would you like to live without wood?

Wouldn’t it, wouldn’t it
Wouldn’t it be funny
If a lady had a wooden tit
Wouldn’t it be funny

Ok so that isn’t a particuarly pc rhyme but this was triggered and remembered from an old poetry book I had as a kid (this happened before from a SOC) , though I’m starting to think that this wasn’t exactly a book meant for children, at least not the age I was anyhow. But regardless we are trailed off the subject matter here.

Would or wood? the same sounds yet very different meaning it just gets confusing as so many things in life can do. If only we could see the wood from the trees or perhaps we should be hoping we can see the trees instead of just wood as all I seem to be seeing recently are trees being pulled down to make way for roads and building, and one day soon I worry I will wake up to find that I’m living in a concrete street. Yes it might be easier to maintain with no gardening to worry about etc but surely we should be valuing nature surrounding us at a much higher price.

Recently I saw a blog post which made me smile as it gave me hope that Spring wasn’t too far off and I’m looking forward to the days getting longer and the crisp bright mornings. I’m even looking forward to seeing if I get a new family of starlings in the garden this year, wouldn’t that be grand.

Bring on the Spring!

This post was inspired by the prompt from Linda G Hill

And the lovely post from KIWINANA

SoCS: The late edition

So it may have been slightly late last night when I decided to write, and my brain may not have been firing on all cylinders but I’m still going to use my SOC: even though it’s a prompt from the wrong week oops.

In my defence, I was catching up and this is the post that caught my sleepy attention

Linda G Hill

So I began to write using this prompt – SOC Jan 14th

But we’re not Datist here *grins*

Pencil v potato

This is how it all began, the start of it all, the very first move in the writers war. It was a mild day on the south bank that started as easily as any other day should yet it should be noted that Linda was there first. For days she had walked by that very spot in the soft dappled grass that lay under the old apple tree. For almost a week she had yearned to sit in the gentle breeze and feel free as she edited her manuscript, if she could only find the time. So when opportunity struck early Friday morning and a meeting was cancelled Linda made the lengthy journey towards her workplace yet instead managed to divert the destination to that desired spot overlooking the lake.

Taking out her pencil and red pen she set about with her soon to be most read novel and began the daunting task of editing. She had managed about five whole minutes of peace and pencil biting (well editing is indeed a stressful business) before she heard the nasal tones of her future nemesis.

Oh no that’s not how you want to do it

I’m sorry? Linda looked up moving a hand upwards to block the sunlight

The markings, you’re doing them all wrong…

Excuse me?

The woman plonked herself down in Linda’s blanket and began opening a large bag of cheese and onion crisps.

I can help you if you like, I’m a writer you know

I…

The woman didn’t wait for a reply before popping a crisp into her mouth and crunching very loudly near Linda’s ear as she leaned in for a closer look at the book.

Yes you may know me, I had my picture printed in gardeners weekly just last week and commended on my letter about how to properly sow daffodils. I also won star writer of the week for three weeks in a row for the church ezine. So you see I can help show you the best way to write as I am a writer.

Flecks of potato flew from fingertips as she gesticulated the emphasis on the last word.

Linda opened her mouth to reply and then paused.

A-Z Challenge: My M

My Muse

It’s as if you make my fingers type somehow
Lure thoughts from my lips, staining the paper
With your inspiration
There are days when you tire me
Incessantly driving my mind forward
Creating strings of words that take form
Just a line or two at first
Then suddenly a whole cacophony
Of symphonies: the muse in triumph
And unbeknownst to most, you sit
Perched firmly in my chest
Your voice at the forefront of my mind

Go on, you say
Write it – write it all out
Write it for me

 

Getting closer to catching up my A-Z Challenge