a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Monday, July 7, 2014

Once Upon A Time

I believed within me
Was a tale of Narnia
Or perhaps another Secret Garden.
I mourn the adventures
In my head
That never met the page.

I have heard
The animals speak
And have seen
The trees dance.

Pen to page is fruitless
Unlike the laden trees
In my imagination
I retire the pen
Which no longer writes
The tales begin to fade.
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

20 comments:

Buttons said...

Your head sounds like mine, I knew I liked you. Hug B

Sandra said...

ok, so the adventures are in your head, now they need to be written down for all to see..i like the part about hearing animals speak..

Eddie Bluelights said...

The ideas will come!!
As each small one does jot it down - just the outline . . . keep doing it! . . . . when you have several try to fit then together and when you do the BIG picture will come and your pen will flow . . .
I hope you get inspiration soon to write the story of your dreams ~ Eddie

Dreaming said...

I think you have captured so well what many writers experience. I love how you were able to created a mood with so few words

Farm Girl said...

I have lived those same dreams and heard those animals speak. I love that you hear them too and I hope you keep writing them all down for us to enjoy.

Linda Wildenstein said...

You head is filling will all manner of magic......and the sharing of it will bring you what you desire. I love how you think and what you have to say...but then what's that saying about putting all the cracked pottery together???????????

Empty Nester said...

You have THE gift of prose. I'm so jealous! Mine always sounds like something a kindergartener wrote. LOL

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

I'm sure you could crank out some great stories. Maybe even one about a redneck...

Mama Zen said...

I feel this way, too.

Magaly Guerrero said...

I believe...

And I, too, mourn for the tales that will only be written in the inside of my soul.

A Quiet Corner said...

Just rehydrate!...:)JP

Ginny said...

They cannot be written because your computer has died...I hope it can be fixed soon, so frustrating! We name everything, even our GPS! Why is it named the alien?

LindaG said...

Good friends are worth waiting for. :-)
You create with things now, instead of words (except for your blog and poems!) so you do still create.

Have a wonderful day!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

So sorry about your computer woes. Hope they are fixed soon. I really love "I have heard the animals speak and have seen the trees dance." So lovely!

Country Gal said...

Sorry about your computer . Hope it all gets sorted out for you ! Thanks for sharing , have a good week !

Jim said...

:) But life goes on, doesn't it, Gail. You have these and many, many others in your head. They will come out for your pen or your keyboard to tell. And you will get lost in the telling of them.

Best wishes for the Alien. Mine cratered when I dropped it on the floor. A laptop, the case broke and some connections in the charging circuitry separated. Bummer!!
Bad part is that Alien XII or higher has Windows 8.1 to deal with. But 8.1 is better than the 8.
Make it know how to do things in 'Desktop' mode and you will like it. I hate the 'Apps' but had to visit the Microsoft store to get my Solitaire game that Dell left off. :)
,,

Lynne said...

Darn computers . . . hope your Alien is running soon.

Vandana Sharma said...

WoW! never thought of a computer as an alien........

wielenga said...

I relate to this poem...and I like your blog header too :)

Margaret said...

… "your alien". Ha well, lets hope a new starship arrives with a strong life force. :)

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