‘poor gretch. workin so hard & nobody cares.’

Those were the words of encouragement from my father yesterday when he walked past while I was banging away at keys. LOL!

He got one thing right though, I’m working hard. Writing fourteen hours a day. So at least I’m having a good time…

I’ve been working on strengthening the protagonist in my thriller script… and I’m still writing sonnets. I’m also kind of blown away by the feedback from the poem I posted yesterday. In roughly 24 hours it received 95 views and 16 amazing comments which is a deal bigger to me than possible describing.

Here’s the poem I wrote this morning… while I was sitting in a glass house freezing…

drat you New England winter!

the sixth sense of a psyche

A sacrificed sense, one of my heartbeats…
Ascension opposed to… Just killing time
I find inside your voice, a place to meet
where low tone whispers reveal why you’re mine.
Vision of the ground until you appear.
Shivering to classical guitar… I …
The taste of spearmint. The feeling of near.
Your jasmine scent beneath a diamond sky.
Senses aren’t something I can sacrifice.
Less all at once. My entire being
evaporates. Without you to entice
hearing – smelling – touching – tasting – seeing.
A presence in my moments. Life’s purpose.
In absence? All six senses are worthless.

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