It's always interesting to read something called "Self portrait". I learned long ago that what we think of ourselves can be much different than what others see or think of us.
I would suggest that since they give us the ability to put our words into up to three genres, that you select some. You never know how each person searches for something new to read.
Wow. As I read this, I imagined eating even half of that and my imagination made my stomach seem to be way too full. I'm not sure if that is a tribute to your words or just that I was able to imagine. Whichever, I enjoyed reading this without actually gaining weight.
What a beautiful letter you wrote to the The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress. Although your letter was specific to your situation, it speaks for many of us. We found our way here to a place where we could learn and grow among our new friends.
Welcome to Writing.com. I'm glad that you found us. I have been here myself since about a week before 9/11. I was blessed to have found a community where we could share our fears and our love. (In fact, I met my hubby here. In February, we will be married for 20 years.)
I would probably make this more than one paragraph.
You wrote:What Christmas means to me is also the time I cherish that fact I can care on a tradition of making baby blankets for mom's to be in the Ward to shoe my support to them.
That's a bit awkward.
How about:What Christmas means to me is also that I cherish that I can carry on a tradition of making baby blankets for moms-to-be in the maternity ward to show my support for them.
Welcome to Writing.com. As someone who spent years in Texas - in Houston, Lake Jackson and Mineral Wells - I envy you being there.
And being a police officer who loves to write poetry is wonderful. Everyone needs a creative outlet, especially those who protect and serve.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your acrostic poem aloud. Poetry is best experienced when you read it aloud. For the poet, it helps us find glitches better.
I remember a time when many people thought that psychologists and psychiatrists were more messed up than the rest of us.
You said. We all suffer - differently.
We do, but don't we also rejoice differently? In fact, since we are all unique individuals, don't we experience most emotions differently?
I knew two women who were abused by their spouses by way of demanding that they never cry again, lest the men would leave them and their kids forever. One was never able to cry again. The other could not cry for loved ones when they were hurt or dying. But she could easily cry at movies and even because of commercials, especially those about abused animals.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your poem aloud, the only way poems should be read.
I have to admit, in fact, that I was disappointed when I visited your YouTube link. I was hoping that you had read your poem aloud, since many people don't realize how important it is to do that.
Thanks for sharing your creativity and your faith.
I hit the Read and Review button and found myself here.
Your title doesn't tell much, but I do love goats, goat's milk and goat's milk fudge. As a kid, I loved playing with the goats and helping my neighbors milk them.
Your description told me to expect a haiku about goats.
Wow. I have never seen a description of what it's like to taxi, lift off and fly before. Well done. (My hubby has only flown once, when he was about 9 years old. I will not be showing your writing to him just in case one day I have to insist that he fly again.)
My only suggestion would be to divide it into two paragraphs.
Thanks for sharing your creativity. And welcome to Writing.com.
Boy, do I understand that feeling. I talked to my mom often, even when we lived far apart. In fact, I bought a special phone plan 25 years ago just so we could talk often. I paid $39.95 for unlimited long distance calling, any time day or night. But my mom still rushed me off the phone. She and dad always used AT&T and paid dearly for long distance calls.
You did it again. You were able to tell a complete tale in few words, and your were able to get us thinking about the mess the cat made, as well as the smell of spoiled, putrid milk. I would bet that some folks who have read your story might have even gagged a little bit.
Some excellent thoughts about teen life and how they often do care about what their parents say. This was written 8 years ago. If it's a true story, your daughter would be 21 by now. I wonder how things might have changed.
I love this, JACE. I love the title. (Titles are my favorite things!) I love the description. And I love the story that you told in just 55 words. Wow! I admire people who can tell a story in so few words.
What a great idea, to turn the boards of a treehouse into a bed. So creative.
That would be some mistake. It could have been a deadly one. And it likely would have been a painful one the next day.
My grandmother frowned on drinking. She was okay with her sons-in-law drinking a few beers during the holidays. But she had no idea that her daughters put vodka in their lime sodas or black cherry sodas. Grandma was used to doing much of the cleanups after meals or parties because she loved to eat and drink the leftovers. Yep. She got very happy one year after drinking up what was left in some glasses.
Reading this aloud was such a joy. The rhythm and rhymes are perfect. It could easily be the verse in a Hallmark card as a card for encouragement or one that offers congratulations to a graduate.
Out of curiosity, I entered two of your lines in Google search, and it found a poet whose writing is quite similar to yours.
I love your children's poem. As kids, our entire neighborhood of young'ns used to love seeing the white of dandelions fly around as much as some of our older neighbors hated it.
They are like tiny dancers.
Thanks for showing us that you can relate to all ages.
My hubby's first wife died in 1980, and he and I have been married since 2005. But he still has times when her memory invades his thoughts and he has to write about her. And I fully understand.
Excellent advise. So many of us have learned to leave our burdens for God to handle while we are sleeping. People have created memes about it for social media. But we don't often awaken with the same attitude, trusting God when our eyes are open.
I do believe that in your last line, you might be missing an "r" so that it says "your trust".
Thanks for sharing your creativity and your faith.
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