The sunset on the last October day
Will usher in the year’s most haunted night.
Throughout the streets, the monsters start to stray
To fill the evening air with screams and fright.
The autumn moon shines brightly in the sky.
The sound of howling werewolves gives you chills.
While vampire bats and witches’ broomsticks fly,
The ghosts and zombies fill the night with thrills.
Dressed up like all the monsters they adore,
Young children start their quest for something sweet.
They plan to knock on every neighbor’s door
And earn free candy shouting “Trick or treat!”
Enjoy the year’s most frightfully fun scene!
I wish you all a Happy Halloween!
Writing is my life, my love, my greatest passion.
Writing is who I am.
Writing is who I was always meant to be.
Books were my first gateway to this world, the magical world of fiction.
I read them every day as a child, devoured their words like chocolate.
Every day, they welcomed me with open pages and promises of wonderful and imaginative stories.
And they never disappointed me.
I knew I wanted to join them, those great authors who had invited me into their minds, into their homes, into their worlds.
I aspired to share in their magic.
And I knew from that young age that I had found the only path on which I would always belong.
I had taken my first step on the greatest journey of my life.
I penned short stories as frequently as ideas came to me.
I started several books (though I never finished most).
I scribbled words anywhere and everywhere I felt the spark of creativity.
My magical world was open and growing every day.
Fiction was my whole world, but there came a time when my own writing fell behind.
I stopped creating so many stories.
Before I knew it, the ideas stopped flowing.
And my magical world grew dark.
For years, I felt lost without my words.
My stories hid in the corners of my mind, never to come to light.
I only ever wrote for school anymore, a tedious task with none of the magic I had once known.
And then, one day, the spark came back.
An idea peeked out of the darkness and whispered for me to create again.
So I typed a few words into my laptop.
Those words became a sentence.
That sentence became a paragraph.
That paragraph became pages.
And those pages became the beginning of a story.
At last, my passion had returned.
Once forgotten in the darkness, my dream reemerged in my heart.
I began to pursue my passion again, to reach for that star I had longed for as a child.
This time, I dared to share my stories with the world.
Readers gave positive feedback and encouraged me to keep going.
My stories even brought me real-life love.
As my courage grew, so did my creative skills.
And then the time came to seriously start chasing my dream.
Starting a blog is one of the scariest yet greatest things I’ve ever done.
It opened my creativity to a whole new world.
I’ve met other writers, made new friends, and shared my stories with likeminded creatives.
Never have I felt closer to that star.
Now I’ve taken one more step forward on my writing journey.
A hundred thousand words have freed themselves from my mind, growing from my imagination into my first major work of art.
My first novel, the fantasy story I’ve long wanted to tell.
And as I shape these words into order, I feel more excited than ever.
No longer will I be just a writer; I will be an author.
I reflect on all the joys writing has given me—freedom, creativity, courage, magic—and I know I wouldn’t change a thing.
From my childhood days of devouring books to my adult years of creating stories and poetry, writing has given me everything I could ever want or need.
Writing has made me the person I’ve always hoped to be.
And though I still have much to learn, I’m always ready to take the next step.
For the love of writing, I know I can never stop creating.
I will never stop being who I am, who I was always meant to be.
I am a writer!
She’s always been there from the start
And loved me every day.
Whenever I was feeling lost,
She helped me find my way.
She gave me almost every book
That I read as a kid,
And nothing made me dream as big
As reading always did.
I started writing short stories
Around the age of nine,
Thanks to the books she shared with me
That sparked this love of mine.
I wouldn’t be a writer now
Had she not held my hand
And guided me from childhood on
Through books’ enchanted land.
And every single piece I write,
She always seems to love.
Her feedback never finds a flaw,
All “five stars” and above.
My whole life, I have felt so blessed
She played the biggest part
In pushing me to reach my dream
Of making works of art.
No matter where I go from here,
I know she’ll always be
The person I can count on most
To always cheer for me.
So have a Happy Birthday, Mom,
In every way you can!
I love you to the moon and back,
My all-time biggest fan!
Happy Birthday to my amazing mother! Thank you for always supporting my dream to be a writer! I love you!
They call it a gift, yet to me it’s a mystery. They envy me for it, they want it for themselves. Yet as I wait behind the curtain, I wonder why. Is it still a gift if you don’t want it? I take a deep breath, exhale slowly. The fear overtakes me, I begin to tremble. But as the curtain rises, anxiety fades into excitement. I understand now. I stand alone on the stage, heart racing, dazed in the light. Silence fills the hall. Lips part, one voice echoes out, a small bird soaring through the air.
Strange beautiful gift
Music touches every heart
Poetry in song
My response to Colleen Chesebro‘s Weekly Poetry Challenge #51: Gift & Song. I know this is the third week in a row that I’ve participated, but I couldn’t resist trying my hand at a haibun with this prompt! I hope you enjoy the poem! Thanks for the prompt, Colleen!
Lost among the noise
Music takes no shape or form
Until these lips part
Silence falls, one voice rings out
And they watch my song take flight
My response to Colleen Chesebro‘s Weekly Poetry Challenge #50: Voice & Watch. Once again, I chose to write a tanka for this week’s entry. I hope you enjoy the poem! Thanks for the prompt, Colleen!