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SUNDAY DIVERSIONS |
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FAVORITE QUOTATIONS And what am I I am a man Born of the womb To live my span ********************* To know me is to understand me To understand me is a miracle Yours not mine *********************** In years to come I will try to understand Why we were just a woman and a man *********************** The great minds of the past live through the great minds of the present in order to become not only the great minds of the future but are the future *********************** It is far too often we appraise a man for what he is worth rather than praise him for what he has done *********************** 
*********************** And what of you have you been there Or is your time still to come? Alas my friend if you don't know Then time can't beat your drum *********************** Encouragement is the key to confidence *********************** Walk behind me if you must Walk beside me if you trust But if you walk in front of me will I see through you *********************** The world of illusions is full of conclusions ***********************
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SHORT STORIES
THE EPISTLE It's only 5 minutes up the road" he said. I walked beside him eager to get to the cafe, this was the night we had all been waiting for and time spent walking was less time to be had by all of us in his presence. Talking to Michael on my own for only the second time, was not as easy as when we were all in class, but by the time we reached our destination I was feeling a lot more relaxed and once we were inside the warm cafe and all seated at the long table I knew it was going to be a good night. Originally about 12 pupils had joined the creative writing class eleven weeks ago. To-night only 8 of us were present. With Michael and the school's co-ordinator that made 10. I like that number - it is strong yet embracing and that is Michael........ Writing can be funny, sad or anywhere in between - Writing can be gentle, harsh or somewhere in the middle - Writing can be poetic, down to earth or straight along the road - Writing is frustration wrenched from deep within, words are tossed around like a good french salad until they become the perfect gourmet we all want to be able to serve. But no gourmet can ever be as satisfying as the one written. My hunger to-night was to be satisfied both ways. As I downed the different delights placed in front of me during the night, and I listened to the stories being read I knew I had seen and heard it all before. We were no longer a mixture of people from different walks of life, we were great masters of art, long dead, spirited together by our very being there and the magic of writing itself........ The table was solid thick oak - The glasses were heavy pewter mugs - The plates were long wooden platters - The remains on which lay oven fresh bread and strong smelling cheese - Each story teller had a treasure to tell ......... Some were pretty and picturesque - Some were poetic, soft and warm - Some were raw, gutsy and grotesque - And some were humorous and written in jest - As the night progressed each one of us brought forth work hidden. Suddenly everybody was swamping Michael with ideas and stories he never dreamed would be produced. "Oh Michael - without your never failing patience and talented guidance none of us would have and I would not be to-night writing this Epistle." Now it was Michael's turn to have his hunger satisfied and as he sat over our works, I saw him sitting close by the glowing embers of the Inn's fireplace. No coaches and horses awaited us as we left the cafe and as we made our way back to our cars I made my way back to reality but with a determination, along with all my classmates, to bring more fruits of life to Michael from our tables of creative writing.
Copyright © 1999 [Rose C Taylor]. All rights
reserved.
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POET'S CORNER Summer Sun Oh Bright and Gentle Summer Sun I welcome you each day. You caress me like a lover and beckon me your way. You come to me each morning and kiss my sleep filled eyes. The nearness of your presence gives pleasure as I rise. You lead me to the water's edge You coax me to the Sea You are my constant silent friend Yet leave me feeling free Oh Bright and Gentle Summer Sun your time has come to set and as you go I take with me a warmth I shan't forget. Bu Wait - You say there's more to feel and do I hear you laugh? Have I been blinded by your light? Were you my Summer Love?
Turning of Time Yesterday I saw a baby born all cuddly and brand spanking new and as I held him I shed a tear for time was turning him into a child. But I should not feel sad - I was once a baby too. Yesterday I watched a small child play with toy soldiers colored red, white and blue and as he played I shed a tear for time was turning him in to a youth. But I should not feel sad - I was once a child too. Yesterday I saw a youth study his head bathed in sweat like dew and as he studied I shed a tear for time was turning him into a man. But I should not feel sad - I was once a youth too. Yesterday I watched a young man climb reaching high to catch a star or two and as he climbed I shed a tear for time was turning him into an old man. But I should not feel sad for I was once a young man too. Yesterday I heard an old man cry - It's not surprising old men often do and as he cried I shed a tear for time had stopped turning on for him. But now I do feel sad for time is running out on me too. "And what of you have you been there or is your time still to come? Alas my friend if you don't know then time can't beat your drum." *********************** |
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