wordswimmer

Where do you look  for poems, for stories, where do you find the words  you need to write, where are they hiding, waiting  for you to discov...

The poems come in bursts like gusts of wind or a sudden rain shower words spilling onto the page coming from who knows where your heart, per...

You never know when you begin where your pen will take you. It's like stepping into a boat and setting sail across a lake hoping for the...

The mysterious rhythm of words-- how they arrive on the tip of your pen one moment and are gone the next how they flow onto the page on some...

After all these years it’s still a mystery how words flow from some invisible source through my arm  to the pen in my hand the ink flowi...

I find a kind of rhythm,  even if it feels awkward,  writing every morning,  fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes,  sometimes more,  using a foun...

Lately I've shortened the time I spend writing in the morning. In part it's an effort to re-charge my energy after a busy month and ...