555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Saturday 3 August 2013

"Precious Thing" (Entry 399)

It was most precious thing
The thing I liked to keep near,
Or at least know where it was at all times. 
To see, to hold,
Or even be in the same room, 
I felt safe. 
I knew I was home. 

Then one day, I lost my thing
Unable to search,
As I knew it was gone forever,
Never to return. 
My heart broke, in that moment,
Never to be mended. 
There's always a chunk missing, a hole left, my precious lost thing

My precious lost mother. 
My most important possession. 
(If a person can belong to another. 
I think they can, when hearts are open, when they give so much... mean so much... are so much to each other.)
My mum. 
I lost her when she died. 
I love her love, her laughter, her strength, her friendship, her scent, her protection, her hugs. 
The most precious thing in my world is lost.

**********
Almost 22 years without you. 
Today is your birthday. 
I will miss you always. 
Remember you always. 
Love you forever. 

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