Y’all will be happy to know that I’ve been writing. Some of you will be especially happy to know that I’ve been writing guard ponies. At least in part. But, that isn’t why I’m posting in this case. I wrote a poem the other day, and a friend encouraged me to post it. I was a little hesitant but, ultimately, I decided I would. I don’t have a title for it. It’s based off of a saying I heard once.
As you walk by
This stone you see
I ask for you
To think of me,
For as I am
You will be too.
So tally now
The things you do.
For those of you who are interested, I’ve updated my recent satire post “I’ve Got a Little List.” I revised some of the verses that I felt weren’t quite fitting with the theme, and added a few new ones, along with some thoughts that originally inspired me to write it in the introduction. You can find the post at the link below - if you’re not interested, feel free to ignore this. Yes - I was a windbag, as always, hehe.
I posted this on my FimFiction blog, and figured I would post it here too. It’s a bit long, so I’ve broken it up with a break - which will hopefully work this time!
This isn’t intended to seriously ridicule anyone or anything, nor does it make any statement of my own views.
This is just a playful satire so we can look at ourselves and laugh, having a little fun at our own expense. That includes my own, as I’ve done many of the things in this list - in fact, I used several of my own tendencies, accidents and mishaps as inspiration for the verses *glances suspiciously at the one about name innuendos and Big Mac gay shipping* Everything is stated to sound horrible, but hopefully in a funny way. So please don’t take this seriously, but as something to laugh over.
I wrote this rendition with the perspective that in the end, none of the things listed there are ultimately all that bad. Some of them aren’t bad at all, as you’ll notice, while others are considered mistakes in writing. The thing is though, everyone makes mistakes at some point, and the fact we sometimes do shouldn’t discourage us. They’re just stepping stones to better writing as we learn.
When I was twelve, I wrote a self-insert fiction of a story called “Tales from Dust River Gulch” wherein my “character” was an orphan who got adopted by the sheriff (my childhood hero). Said character had a streak of discolored hair he was mocked over at the orphanage and the whole shebang. I wrote a few other things I’m just as embarrassed over - for those of you who’re cringing, you’ll be glad to know I lost the papers to that story, probably to never be found again.
None of us authors are perfect, and we have all made and will continue to make mistakes. That being the case though, we can also all improve by pressing on. We don’t get better by not writing, but continuing to do so, and where we do make mistakes, learning from them. If you’re an author who feels underappreciated, incompetent or incapable - don’t give up. Write for the joy of writing, and don’t give up.
If you always do your best, your best can only get better.
Two friends sat side by side amidst a charming summer day.
The sky was blue and cheery, filled with wispy clouds at play.
One friend was staying silent while the other watched the breeze
Combing through the flowers and grass that skirted all the trees.
”We never got that picture done,” he said with some regret,
”But still I’m glad to talk to you; it’s one less thing to fret.
”I’ve missed you - I’m not going to lie - so this is some relief.
And yet I can’t express my thoughts… at least when time’s so brief.”
”How great a friend you’ve been to me, there is no need to say.
I only hope I gave more joy than lingering dismay.
The other friend said nothing as they sat there on the hill.
The first was still collecting words with which his thoughts to fill.
”It’s really almost painful to pretend that I don’t care,
To smile and joke with others when I know that you’re not there.
”I know, I know that it will pass, and someday I’ll be fine,
But as of now the pain’s too close to act like it’s benign.
”Sometimes the people talking mention things of yours they’ve read,
And other times I’ll catch a glimpse of lines or quotes you’ve said.
”It’s at those times I feel it, that pang of cold seclusion,
…but, it’s time I ended this whole self-imposed delusion.”
He stood and struggled back a tear or two that laced his face,
Yet there was still just one last thing he had to put in place.
”Part of me just wants to stay, to feel you somehow near me,
Hoping to reduce the pain… if only you could hear me.”
He placed a summer blossom on the ground and trudged away,
To leave behind the gravestone of the friend that silent lay.
I wrote this while inspired one night, listening to the music I have linked below. A lot of people think of mothers singing lullabies, but personally, even though the singer in the music is female, in my mind I like to imagine it’s a father singing to his child. Fathers can be sweet too.
I’d like an image for this, but sadly, I have none. Still, I hope you all enjoy it. For those wondering, the music the lyrics are for, is the “Sandman’s Song” from Humperdinck’s Hansel & Gretel: A fairytale in 3 Acts. The more famous part of the song, the “Evening Prayer” comes directly after it.
The words are written to follow the music in the link, from 0:00 - 2:10 : Music
For the most part, the words follow the singer, but the last stanza follows the music’s theme instead.
♫Oh weary one so sleepy,
Head drooping, eyes so weepy,
Please take my wing for nesting;
To guard you as you’re resting.
Back to their homes the woodlands creep,
In evening shades to fall asleep.
I’ll stay with you to pass the night,
Till sun-time wakes you with it’s light.
But until then,
When morn has come again…
Soar past horizons in the farthest skies,
To wonderous glories hidden from our eyes,
And there find rest in peaceful slumber,
In the land of dreams.
Don’t fear the dark or friendly shadows round you.
They’ll keep watch until the sun has found you.
May this blessing safely guide and ward you,
In your dreams.♫