Day is but a light with life to live,
rejoice and stroll in Earth’s green meadowed parks,
embed in you the yearning of your soul,
a thread to reach and sew life’s gifted oats,
meant to thrust on others life’s warmth and glow.
L. M. Montes
Tag: life
To Choose by L. M. Montes
I stand before a hall with many gateways,
deciding which to choose grips hold my mind,
waiting to pounce life’s lioness awaits,
or could it be the love of one so kind.
Decisions rock on waves so vast and fraught,
just open one and peer inside to see,
so in I walk without thinking or thought,
’twas a lioness charging after me.
I spun to run the door it laughed and shut,
revealing darkness shadows playing and such,
a light beamed round a corner calling out,
so I followed but found the light of doubt.
perhaps if I had thought decisions through,
I would have gained a love so great and true.
The Circle of a Writer’s Life
When you’re a writer, a full-time writer, going to work isn’t like having a regular job where you go to work and do the same thing every day. At least it isn’t like that for me anyway. My day is a hodge podge of different experiences, events, conversations, activities, etc… Why is it like this? Because I’m constantly creating. Yes, even when I’m not writing, I’m writing. I seek fiction in the nonfiction world of reality.
When I hit a brick wall in my story, I go for a walk to relax my mind and think of possible solutions. Talking to people is a great way to find great dialogue for any story. Although, most of the time you might end up changing parts of it to suit your story. A boat ride or a day at the beach is fun and. Write your experience down in your writing journal.
So, in a nutshell, the circle of a writer’s life is different each day.
The Trickle of Life
A Dove Greeting the Day with a Morning Coo
Up Up and Away
Doll House
Her life is like a doll house,
With everything in place,
A perfect house,
A perfect man,
And children filled with grace.
She talks not like a woman,
But rather as a child,
Playing games,
Skipping rope,
An innocence so mild.
But somewhere deep inside her,
She knows this isn’t like,
No hopes to hope,
No dreams to dream,
Just agony and strife.
One night she just walked out and left,
And made her life her own,
Reaching forth,
Grabbing hold,
You see how she has grown?
By L. M. Montes
Appearance
Remember, not everything is what it appears to be. Just when you least expect it, the “curtain” can go up and things are then seen in the truest light.
WRITE TIME AND AGAIN 