While I was labelling all my journals over the holiday, I found something I’d written on the back of a page of stickers.
It looks like it might have been the beginning of a song as ‘bridge’ and ‘chorus’ are included…And so, today we get a two-for…a two-fer? Two poems for one because I wanted to revisit this one, but also, I want to keep writing something new each day.
Here’s the found poem with some minor edits.
Found Heartsong
If you say you’ll pin
My heart on your sleeve,
I’ll say, no thanks, smile and leave.
If you say you’ll hold
My heart in your hand,
I’ll say, my friend, you don’t understand.
My heart belongs here in my chest.
To fight the fears and all the rest.
And if I don’t love me,
I can’t love you,
So what’s a lover supposed to do?
The thing with the heart is
It’s meant to break,
To hold the pain
For self love’s sake.
Answering Allen on Amazon
Amazon sent me an email.
Allen is asking about the foldable
camping table I purchased:
Would this be sturdy for a Blackstone griddle, and
does it have an aluminum top?
Who is Allen?
Where will he camp?
What is a Blackstone griddle?
Would he make me pancakes?
Does he have the patience to wait
for sap to unsnuggle from trees?
And a final thought…from Robertson Davies (Thank you, Charis and Graham for this mind-blower!)
A book is renewed every time it finds a perceptive reader, and no book is the same to every reader…Indeed, it is a reflection of the spirit of the reader, and I am truly convinced that we who are committed readers may appear to choose our books, but in an equally true sense our books choose us. By an agency that is not coincidence, but something much more powerful that Jungians call synchronicity, we find, and are found by, the books we need to enlarge and complete us. Reading is not an escape, something done at random; it is directed unerringly toward the inner target. It is truly a turning inward.It is exploration, extension, and reflection of one’s innermost self.
Robertson Davies, from The Merry Heart, pg. 26.
VANESSA SHIELDS, writer 