The right word
The right place
Upon your face
The wrong word
The wrong place
Shake of head
Fall from grace
There are TOO MANY colours these days
I’m sure we could ditch a few.
Some colours are really useful
Like orange and green and blue.
But would anyone even notice
If we were to drop ecru?
Yellowish-brown, or brownish yellow
Nobody seems to agree.
Basic beige does the job for me:
Let’s remove the colour debris!
Imagine a world without ecru.
Shall we just try it and see?
I wrote this for my critique group, expressing some of my (newbie) feelings about the critiquing process. Do others have the same thoughts and feelings about it?
This critiquing game is hard.
It lays your soul open wide,
Your deepest thoughts for all to see,
And invites the critters inside.
Lightly as they tread,
The daisies still get trampled,
Structure taken apart;
Favourite lines get strangled.
Part of me wants to hear,
Nothing but praise and love,
As my words shine new light
And raise you up above
Maybe one day they will.
But they’re not quite ready yet.
As good as they seem now, this isn’t
As good as they can get.
So they pass through the crucible,
Tested and toughened by flame.
Ready to share with the world,
Ready to make your name.
So thank you all for your words
And all the time that you take
The different perspective you bring
The different insight you make
This is a relationship of trust
From thousands of miles away.
I hope to eventually meet you in person.
Perhaps at your book signing day?
occasional creativity in a bloke-shaped package
Children's Author, Tea Drinker, Epic Procrastinator
Laura Grevel Blogs on Life and Writing
Some are calm, some are disturbed, some are lonely… but some are pleasantly busy!
'Every contact leaves a trace'
Book Humour. A Sideways Perspective on the Bonkers Business of Books
This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Alistair Lane - Writer, Poet, Daydreamer
Writing, the Universe and whatever occurs to me
Poetry from Walsall and Black Country poet Richard Archer since 2011
Reminding mean boys that big girls push back since 2015.
Words, words, words
~ Communicator, WordSmith, Artist, Guide, Mentor, Muse ~
Ramblings, poetry & short snipets