Back in elementary, when I wrote my first poem,
writing came in far down the list, definitely after play.
As hard as it may be to believe, it's true,
the choice between a pencil or pen was the only way.
Yew, the typewriter, back then, was available,
I'm really not quite that old,
it's just that for us children,
we couldn't even touch one until schooled.
Writing, at first, was rather a chore,
but I soon became intrigued.
I learned about "poetic license" and how to write stories
that needn't be believed.
Before long, realizing I could barely read my own writing,
I decided to invent a style of my own,
my "style" improved my writing, but I was in an alphabet forest,
all by myself, alone.
The more I wrote the more I loved it,
then I realized between mind and hand, was a flow,
each year as I grew older,
my hand was writing words I didn't really know.
During late teens, into early twenties,
my words looked like works of art.
The pencil gave way to a silver Cross pen,
that pen and I were seldom apart.
I've wondered at times if an analyst could tell,
if my styles were all by me.
Hard to read scribbles were words in a rush,
while stylized words were a bit of art, to see.
I conquered the typewriter in my junior year,
and often my fingers were too fast.
Due to marriage and then two children,
my dreams of being a writer
seemed destined not to last.
During numerous years with babies,
two stars in my well tarnished crown,
marriages and divorces supplied such inspiration,
if I couldn't have written, I'd have preferred to drown.
In the midst of a life that was broken
a computer came in to my life.
A novel present itself in a dream,
and research managed to overcome strife.
The novel was actually finished,
and during a screen writing course a movie was born.
Years later an agent has signed it,
hopefully its making rounds, getting well worn.
When the typewriter took over the job of the pen,
the transition was easy and fun.
Words from my mind flowed like a river or stream,
the passion I felt determined which one.
Then in the '80's my first computer arrived,
I'd learned to use them while on the job.
It was a used NEC, a dinosaur, that's true,
but with all it could do, it leveled all odds.
Again, a thought went through my mind,
"Will I be able to write poems and stories on this?"
I'd used them on various jobs and projects,
but never to record my words, it would be bliss!
Now I wouldn't have to retype pages, for a spell correction,
or to move paragraphs around.
I prayed my thoughts would continue to flow,
my heart was pounding so hard, I was sure others could hear the sound.
Before I would have guessed it,
the flow was working great.
With fingers over the keyboard,
I felt like a horse, ready to burst from the gate!
I continued getting up-grades
most of the computers were used.
The a few years ago a new Dell came home,
and be sure, it was never abused!
Then in 2008 a divorce and a one-thousand mile move,
along with terrible pain, it all served to put me down.
I couldn't write in any way,
the "flow" was no longer around.
I was so far deep in depression,
the world looked dark and cold.
No words even entered my head,
I was completely the opposite of bold.
My sweet grand-daughter, Linda,
gave me some pens and a book.
Gel pens in fantastic colors,
in spite of depression, I took a look.
That Mother's Day gift saved my spirit and soul,
I had wanted to end it and die.
For some reason God sent dear Linda,
to save my life, and I don't know why!
So now the flow's reconnected,
I pray life moves forward in God's way.
Whatever God may have in store,
give me, God, a future, your way!
Take the words you give me Lord,
and spread them throughout the earth
though I doubted much too long,
I know now, that they have worth.
Some thoughts may never grow beyond
the method by which they're stored,
as long as thoughts flow from your mind,
by recording them, you'll never be bored.
Never give up the mighty pen,
to see anytime, any place, any where.
Some future life may be changed for good,
long after you were there!
God has been giving me words for years. I had my own TV show at one time, when i asked Him what to do with them, He told me to "Share Them!" I asked Him again what I was to do with them and He said again, "Share them!" So I'm doing so here on FaithWriters.
Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com
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