It’s more of a productive Monday, with me settling in to do all the computer work that needs to be done but is frequently put aside for
better more fun things.
Unfortunately, there is always something that needs to be done on the computer, and no matter how productive it is, I feel I could be using my time better elsewhere. Sitting around on the laptop can be quite counter productive.
This morning I’ve got the ‘get up and go’ happening. Starting with two and half hours doing good stuffs with 2 coffees, then a shower, bowl of cereal and pop this post up to keep you, my loyal legion of fans, happy for another day or so while I get onto the other important stuffs. And I was just told that tomorrow I will be out most of the day with hubby attending to other business.
One of my laptop jobs is going through my drafts folder in each blog and doing a tidy up after I cleaned up my spam yesterday – finding some lost people in the process, sorry about that, it’s pretty scary in there.
Enough on that, so without further ado, here are a couple of creative writing pieces I found. The first from a friend back in College, 1991 when we were 17/18, the second from yours truly.
“You say you love me”
You say you love me,
but I’m not so sure.
I saw the way you looked at her
my heart went through the floor.
You say you don’t care for her or her love anymore,
but your eyes are filled with love and affection for her.
I can’t stand it anymore.
You say you love me
I’m not so sure.
Selina Kubach, 18/5/91
‘Home on the moor” Edited briefly as I wrote from the original.
Hand in hand they strolled across the moor, warm against the icy wind in thick jumpers and scarves. Woolly beanies keeping the chill off their heads. Pausing to look backwards, they can see the river, winding like a snake through the rushes, green and brown, glowing in the sunset, waving in the wind. A place of great beauty where wild animals roam, and flowers bloom blending sweetness with the rugged vastness.
Further on wards they walk, pushing against the wind, the sun dips below the horizon and darkness settles in. They know this path,, they walk it every day, yet when the fog settles in, quite suddenly it seems, they feel isolated and lost.
The path gets steeper, as they wind their way around the lonesome hill. Their house sits at the top, perched precariously against the rocks. The fog lifts as quickly as it arrives and the sky is dark and clear.
The wind picks up, and they stop near a tree, to huddle and watch. A lone hawk circles, searching for prey, anything that might brave the weather. He leaves with empty beak and the pair continue on their way. A darkness comes over them, darker than the night, and looking up, they see the shadow of a storm cloud that promises a war upon the earth.
An eerie silence envelopes them as they make the final dash to the front door, the calm before the storm. As the door is closed, the fury is unleashed and the tin roof becomes a source of thunder with the rain, lightening fills the rooms with light for the briefest of seconds, over and over again.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the storm subsides and passes on, they sneak a look from their window. The river is bulging and trees are down. The moor resembling more a war zone than a place of endless beauty.
Picture from this awesome website here
Now, as another of my friendly bloggers would say, time for another coffee!
Happy Monday 🙂