lou: quietly


What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep, or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

William Henry Davies 1871 - 1940

Writing beauty

Should probably explain why this is here. I wanted somewhere to keep on writing. I wanted somewhere to be able to play. I wanted somewhere for me that no one was expecting anything wonderful from.

I wanted somewhere to make grammatical errors and shameless posts full of emotion and light and laughter without feeling judged and scrutinised.

I might talk about work. I might talk about weekends with my boyfriend. I might talk about riding my bike. I might talk about the things I over hear, or the snapshots in my mind that I click when I see something beautiful or challenging or different.

I want to write beauty. No small aspiration, then. But striving to be better seems to be doing me just fine these days, so why not shoot for the stars?