there was a little girl who fell in love with words. She wanted to learn as many of these words as she could, she wanted to learn what they meant, she enjoyed manipulating them into different forms - creating poetry, stories, lyrics and even Art. If she could find a pen, she would write them down on almost any surface. Mostly, she filled up notebooks & kept filling them up.
If she didn't find time to write them down they spilled into her thoughts. Daydreaming words into all kinds of glorious ideas of what she could say, how she could write it in a way that others would love to read. Although, she was known as a young girl, as being painfully shy she knew the truth inside of her because words had always been her truest friends. Words turned into stories and her most favorite would be the poems that came too. These stories always brought characters patterned after her obervations and discussions with others. During her play time, she rehearsed many of these stories as she staged plays with her Barbie dolls cast as the perfect actresses.
She also payed attention to the elderly through service and kinds visits to those living around her. On her favorite afternoon, she would talk to her Grandma as much as possible, since after all, Grandma was the oldest writer she knew, about writing and the characters that her Grandma was working on in her books. Even now, she can't remember all of the conversations now but she realized how Grandma inspired her. Besides writing, yet it fit perfectly in her plans to keep writing, she also looked up to her Grandma, who was such a happy, positive person. She exemplified how to treat others kindly, how to be social and how to work hard. She reflected on this many times now since these simple conversations, board games & even writing sessions together.
Her goals have never ceased and seeing them on the path in front of her but she felt that she had not been reaching in the right places or high enough. In her delicate heart, she would like to change that route now. For through her feelings, at least writing some of these thoughts down helped her start with that. After all, she needed a place to start so that she could feel like building a castle. With poetry month coming up, this will be as good as any. Once a day each day. Write a poem. She would like to share with you a bit about life, sorrow, history and wittingly hopes that you gain a sense of the person that she is and what she tries to live to be each day. So, hopefully you will find more good than bad and perhaps that will help you understand how much this dear girl loves people and what she sees in her everyday observations. These are her dreams and desires, she may fall short but perhaps someday you will know what she was all about anyway. You see, long ago, in an elementary school far, far, away, she started writing in her free time as even as soon as in the third grade. Experimenting with words, as she liked to think of it. As time became years she started to feel more confident in her writing. So, in sixth grade, she wrote a poem about the Cherokee Indians. She had learned about them in school and wanted to express from her heart what they went through.
Can you guess who this little girl represents yet?
Yes, even myself and the purpose of this fairytale is to let you know a little bit of my background as a writer and as a poet. I have long since misplaced and lost the original poem but that single experience still means a great deal to me. I remember how it felt to win an honorable mention for it. How incredible it was! How much that made me feel that somehow I may have brought an awareness to people's eyes about the Cherokee "Trail of Tears." I want to keep that up and I have a little here and a little there. I will continue in that regard. I will write. I am a poet. I am an Artist too. This is me. This is truly who I am. I hope you believe.
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