Circles in the water

My father asked me yesterday, at about dinnertime: "Have you drawn anything new? Have you written any poetry?" Answer to both questions was at the time, "No, I have not. :(" Well, it seems like a trip to the Botanical Garden and a lingering fascination with some very pretty circles made by waterdrops falling in the stream there helps in getting over months-old writer's-block. :P Enjoy!

Circles

I have seen the circles in the water,

And read in them the hour of our time:

Wave upon wave they came, like the chatter

Of birds arguing in the vineyard climb.

Night has wept dewdrops in the grassy field,

And in my garden; their lights overspill

And what was once a secret so well sealed

From night to day became a joy tranquil.

And though all winds and things be circling fair,

I hold the roundness of a wedding band

As with a spray of flowers in my hair

It rests in the palm of my hand.

The scent of flowers and silver-gilt leaves,

With the stars trapped in the light of the moon –

How artful these circles, these expert thieves!

To hide my blush in skies with awe bestrewn.

Yet why ever should I blush, after all?

Circles I love: they have the perfection

Of spray hitting against an old seawall –

Sweet, dear, tender balm of repetition!

Am I coy; am I infuriating?

Oh really now! I am simply confused

As to how to make the weave of telling

Match these wondrous circles with moon infused.

15 July 2011

Digging up old stuff

Hmmm. I remembered that once, a rather looong time ago, I started writing a series of short stories/a novel. So I searched for it in my laptop and found it. Oh boy. I cannot tell you how bad a writing it actually is. *giggle* I do like some of the ideas there, but much of the text itself sounds stilted, artificial, pompous. A striving for the epic when in fact there is no epic to be found there. :P Three years is a long time to grow up and become more sophisticated. If only I would have refined my skill all the while. :D *amused*

I am on the verge of writing something - either poetry (which I have not done in months or so) or even a short story, if I can get my hands on a decent topic. (Which is, by the way, the hardest part - for me at least.)

And here is an excerpt (I hope I nailed one of the worst):

       ‘Men of the Aellin, your country is in peril. Will you leave it to be destroyed, ravished like a defenceless lady in the woods? Will this country be left to crumble and fall in ruin before its time? I say “nay”, for else you would not have come. Westward lies your fate. Do not be reckless in warding the boar off. Good speed and good luck unfailing. Let no arrow miss its mark!’
        When Griffith finished his speech the men lifted their bows and cried as one: ‘Haste unfailing and luck never-ending!’ Then they mounted and were gone.

They've gone, and good riddance too. :P I'm especially 'fond' of the "defenceless lady in the woods" comparison. Gets me in an exasperated-in-an-amused-sort-of-way every single time.