WRITER ON THE BEACH
(Have you seen him?)
Sitting on a towel soaking up the sun,
He's not missing the beauty of the surf.
He still hears all the laughter and the fun.
But he's also writing for all he's worth,
Rapidly filling legal pads with words
Of a story that must be given birth.
Jade and ivory waves sweeping cross the sands
Form visual background music for his mind
As he envisions stories on the strand.
All this vivid stimuli help him find
Sandcastles with damsels and their brave knights,
And wicked villains spoiling for a fight.
He breaks at noon for a family picnic,
And romps with them for the rest of the day.
Still in his mind he's wrestling his Pickwick.
Night finds them tired and happy in their play.
After they are all asleep and cozy,
Laptop lit, his tablets he's transposing.
(I have been him.)
CITY WRITER
Sauntering through the crowded city streets
He soaks up every language, light and air,
Praying for all and everyone he meets.
Nothing prepares his heart to write like prayer.
He licks up the city's feeling and tone,
Like drips down a summer ice cream cone.
Still chilly in the filtered morning light
A mocha buys his seat in the coffee shop.
He scans the paper through before he writes.
He sips his coffee, tall with an extra shot.
Reading a novel, he was up too late.
Now to write himself, he must be awake.
Next he reviews what he wrote yesterday,
Assuming each character's perspective.
He's fully immersed in the interplay,
Trying out each one's smile or invective.
He's soon lost in another place and time.
Gathering ripe fruit from the muse's vine.
At noon he savors a hot bowl of soup.
He closes his eyes to give them a rest.
He leaves his table to a larger group.
It's important not to become a pest.
In a park he finds a shady table
To weave the plot of his modern fable.
http://watchinginprayer.blogspot.com/
http://thinkinginthespirit.blogspot.com/
http://theanchorofthesoul.blogspot.com/
http://writingprayerfully.blogspot.com/
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