Source: Unknown
Words are My Life
I have been fascinated with words for as long as I remember. I love the way the look in print with the different twists and turns of black ink on white paper to create a visual of what is spoken. When I learned to read, my life took a huge turn. I always had a book in my hand or at least close by and read every chance I had. My reading caused me more trouble as a child than any other behavior … and I was not an easy child to raise.
The local library was only three blocks from my house and I was there every day the doors were open, especially during the summer. I could treat myself to hours of looking and touching a wonderful selection of books. The only rule was that all my chores for the day had to be finished before I walked to the library.
My favorite thing was to sit on the cool hardwood floor and read to my heart’s content. We were only allowed to check out four books per week and the library was only open two days and then on Saturday each week. Four books rarely got me through to the next time the library was open…so, I read for hours, made my selections to check out before going home to read my new choices.
I never lost my love of reading. Books took me places I would never be able to travel. I was a life long learner through reading … being delighted to learn something new on my own by reading everything I could about the chosen topic. Even in my ‘deep adulthood’ I learn by reading … books, articles in magazines, blogs and internet sites … anything is fair game when I set my mind to learn a new craft, cooking method, or even to improve my personal writing.
Reading led me to love poetry. Reading poetry led me to writing poetry. I am not the best poet on the face of the earth, but I still try and still study the poets that impress me with their words. Everything around me is poetry … a sunrise, wind moving through a stand of trees, a hawk flying high above me in the sky, chickens and cows speaking their language of the earth on my daily walks, highway sounds, the train coming into my little valley with whistles and clacking, the noon blast of the fire station whistle, church bells that ring at 8 am and again at 5 pm … all poetry and all words waiting to either be spoken or written as the Poetry of Life.
Copyright © 2017 Annie
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie
Annie's Texas Musings 
I always had a book in my hand s well. I’ve always loved to read and write. I’m not a great poet, but I too like to try my best. I love your writing Annie in any form💞💞
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Sounds familiar. I don’t remember if there was a weekly limit to the number of books I could check out, but I usually got as many as I could. If a book was longer than most, I hoped I would be able to renew it. During the school year in elementary school, I read Jules Verne and others that would be considered classics. At the public library, several blocks away, I checked out and read all sorts of things. I’m now reading a book called “White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America”, which is opening my eyes further to the big lie that America is a classless society. It never has been. We’re seeing the downside of that now and for the next 4 years. Of course, I refer to social classes. Even the so-called upper class has proven itself to be low class in the cultural sense. Thanks for reminding me of good times from my youth. 😉
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