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![]() | Wheel of Fortune ![]() My blog--I pull a card--if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it is for you? ![]() |
Greetings ![]() I’m here as a fellow member of the PPC5 challenge. I was browsing your book item looking for entries that caught my fancy, and this one really struck a chord with me. Paper: that magical substance capable of holding all our thoughts, dreams, aspirations, heartbreak, joy and entire lives "to have and to hold" for as long as it doesn't crumble away to dust. I relate to your appreciation of paper and how much it meant to have the written word as a child. I wrote so much growing up, forming worlds of pug dogs, sentient stuffed animals and Wind in the Willows sequels that were both childish (naturally) and yet reaching out for something deeper, something profound. The images of you hauling home that beautiful colored paper feel like they imply you built physical things with the sheets, like construction paper. But I think it's a lovely metaphor for everything we build on a two-dimensional sheet. The simplicity of your choice of beloved childhood toy is heartwarming. I hope you have found yourself in your words over the years. This is a fine little poem with nothing I could think of to change. Perhaps a gentle rumination of a couple lines letting us know how much of what you wrote was fulfilled in some way would help give it a well rounded feel. Take care, thanks for sharing, and keep writing ![]() ![]() ![]()
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