I pulled out some of my old writing journals the other day, some dating as far back as 30 years. The timing seemed right to revisit auld lang syne diaries of dreams, thoughts, and stream-of-thought poetry. I don’t even know if there is such a genre of poetry. I have no education or experience writing poetry, as you can tell from the mixed bag of meterless metaphors above, yet I seem to have an abundance of it. Digging through pages of random imagery scribbled on crusty, tea-stained pages is a lesson in humility. It makes me laugh and cringe at the same time. Like, who did I think I was, that I could put pen to paper and call it art? Thus, it is my resolution to do less chronicling and more creative writing this year on this blog. This is a lofty resolution as both my dogs are battling serious health conditions and I am facing re-treatment of Lyme disease (again). Though I dislike putting promises in writing, I hope I can bring life back to this corner of the world where my imagination created connections with readers around the world for more than a decade.
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A toast to you, dear reader:
May all your joys be pure joys
And all your pain
Champagne.
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Happy New Year Readers!
Gina Adams Palmer says:
Write on!! 🙂
Marilyn and Chessie says:
Nice toast! Have a happy new year despite what looms ahead.
The Oceanside Animals says:
Charlee: “Happy New Year! We are back!”
Chaplin: “And we are sending lots of purrs that you have a great year!”
Lulu: “And tail wags, too!”
Charlee: “Dada says he will definitely take a glass of that champagne, after the year he had.”
Lulu: “He might even take two!”