OPEN THE DOOR

Door to Fantasy Blue

 

OPEN THE DOOR

A door to fantasies.
To new worlds.
To new beginnings.
A life worth living.

A door to your imagination.
Where words flow like water.
Ideas ride the tides.
Stories to live by.

A door to your heart.
Love and happiness in store.
Clear blue skies for all.
Wishes set free to the wind.

 

 

Advertisements

WHY DO WE WRITE?

writing: imagination

WHY DO WE WRITE?

Our minds want more.
We need to explore the world.
To explore the unknown.

If we can’t fulfill our dreams in our daily lives,
Then we can fulfill them in our writing.
Stories about love, evil creatures, and deadly games.

I’ve always wanted to live in a small town.
So I created a small town in my book
And called it, Oasis.

I love to read books.
The main character moves to Oasis
And opens a bookstore.

You get the idea.
The main character, Linda,
Is living my dream life.

My mind takes a dark turn.
Life is too good and care-free.
Oasis needs a darker side.

The original residents live in a forest
And only come out at night.
This is when the fun and games begin.

Do you see where this is going?
If not, you can always read my book.
I finally got my small town,
Where fantasies come true,
And some just don’t.

A RAINBOW OF DELIGHTS

Crayons

A RAINBOW OF DELIGHTS

Follow me
Through the bright colors.
Run to the others.
Where crayons reach the sky.
Climb the pile up high.

Beyond the
Cotton balls stuck above,
The flutter of a dove.
Lake water is shining crystal clear,
A perfect reflection of a deer.

To the beat of
The winged creatures in the sky.
As they dance the tune up high,
Flying close to the ball of fire,
Their wings take them higher and higher.

Come closer and see
What my imagination has wrought
With little or no prior thought.
A scene of beauty, my dear,
Has made it all crystal clear.

A BOOK IS A TREASURE

 

 

 

A long journey to become an author,
Days of soul searching and hard work.
The words need to be enticing and clear,
A bridge to the reader’s heart.

A movie camera sweeps across scenes,
So does a book’s point of view.
One point of view shows one angle,
While changing points of view reveal more.

To be lost in a book is truly a gift,
An escape from the mundane and boring.
A visit to far away places can be
An adventure to open your mind’s eye.

Once completed, a book is a treasure,
A symbol of the author’s hopes and dreams.
A confectioner’s delight to be tasted and savored,
To be remembered by the many or just a few.

MIDNIGHT MADNESS

I am lost in the park.
Footsteps squish in the dark.
I fear the dark night.
The moon at its height.
I’m soaked to the bone.
I lost my cell phone.
He is coming near.
Footfalls I can hear.
I hide behind a willow tree.
You can’t imagine what I see.

 

 

I am lost in the park.

Footsteps squish in the dark.

I fear the dark night.

The moon at its height.

I’m soaked to the bone.

I lost my cell phone.

He is coming near.

Footfalls I can hear.

I hide behind a willow tree.

You can’t imagine what I see.

 

A BOOK FOR ME

amandaonwriting:
“  South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie
”
Imagine a place like this.
The perfect hotel of bliss.
Endless books to read.
Nothing else I’d need.
Walls of books everywhere.
All you need is a chair.
Never run out...

amandaonwriting:
“  South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie
”
Imagine a place like this.
The perfect hotel of bliss.
Endless books to read.
Nothing else I’d need.
Walls of books everywhere.
All you need is a chair.
Never run out...

 

amandaonwriting:

South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie

Imagine a place like this.

The perfect hotel of bliss.

Endless books to read.

Nothing else I’d need.

Walls of books everywhere.

All you need is a chair.

Never run out of a book.

Just pick your favorite nook.

Read the day away.

Nothing else to say.

 

 

A PICTURE COMES TO LIFE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Please follow me
Through the colors.
Past shimmering glass
And stacks of crayons.
The blue glass mirrors
Puffy cotton balls.
Scraggly arms reach high
to the ball of fire.

Can you hear the drums?
Flight of winged creatures.
Soaring high above,
too close to the fire.

Come closer and see
What my minds has wrought.
A scene near and dear.
To my thoughts and dreams.