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Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday. All Go Dog Go Cafe readers, guest writers, and baristas are invited to post one link to one specific post (600 words or less please!) from your blog into the comments section below.
If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.
When a local writers group asked me to teach a class on inspiration, I was stopped in my tracks. How could what inspires me inspire this community of prose writers and poets? The more I thought about what might be universally applicable, however, the more excited I got. You see, I’ve come to understand that inspiration isn’t something you wait around for – although that’s one approach. Rather, it’s something you can consciously chase and catch in innumerable ways.
Here are five strategies that will jump-start your creativity:
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I sat upon the sand
watching as he played amid the waves,
catching each swell as I’d taught him.
With every rise and fall,
and every smile and laugh,
I could see the past years
and the pain and stress he endured
melt away
and for those few carefree moments
he was a kid again,
one who had no worries in front of him
except for whether he might swallow too much
of the sea…
:
Copyright ©SirenSong1208
All rights reserved.
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
“You must have control of the authorship of your own destiny.
The pen that writes your life story must be held in your own hand.”
~ Irene C Kassorla
Text & image source: Earthschool Harmony https://www.facebook.com/SpiritualQuotesandSoulfood/photos/
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
I would live in your love
As the sea-grasses live in the sea,
Borne up by each wave as it passes,
Drawn down by each wave that recedes;
I would empty my soul
Of the dreams that have gathered in me
I would beat with your heart as it beats,
I would follow your soul as it leads.
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She loves the smell of flowers
That spring brings to the air
She longs for summer walks
Free of grief, and great despair.
She longs to feel the warmth of sun
So gently on her face…
As she strolls along the cobblestones,
In some quiet little place.
Perhaps a street in Italy
With its painted frescoed walls…
Where gondoliers sing softly
Of love that lingers on
Oh, but spring in gay Paris
For amour it fills the air
As wild Irises, and lilies
Adorn the streets and fairs
But in truth where she would like to be
Is a place where love can grow
Without life’s stain of cruelty
In a world where she belongs.
Antony King 2018
The Reluctant Poet 