United States of America

I'm an aspiring novelist with a passion for free verse and epic fantasy (and occasionally being over-dramatic).
INFP ~ TCK ~ Enneagram 4 ~ reader of many things
been here since about 7.26.2017

Message from Writer

There is always hope.

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before." (Jane Austen)

"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost." (J.R.R. Tolkien)

"Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon." (A.A. Milne)

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." (Romans 15:13)


If you're here looking for something to read, some of my favorites are "Ten Wishes--A Poem", "Light", and "A Possibility". :)

A Tree

August 22, 2017

    You stand tall and proud—taller than many of your smaller brethren, and yet you are proud to be one of them. Thick branches curl around you; they are evidence of the ages of time you have withstood. Each one is bejeweled with glittering emerald leaves, but while the color is pleasing you do not think much of them. You know they will wither and fall, and then grow anew, and wither again—just as they always have. It is a cycle you have experienced since you were a fluttering sapling with branches barely thick enough to support the sparrows that rested on them.
    Sparrows—you have always been fond of sparrows. Your own stillness, aside from when the wind chooses to dance among your kind, has led you to regard the small winged creatures with a great fondness. They sit and twitter in a harmony of senseless chirps that brings a happy glow to your existence, a glow not even the sunlight can replicate. The birds' abrupt motions are so foreign when compared with your laborious waving that you cannot help but enjoy them.
    And yet...their energy can be overwhelming. The sudden movements and constant hopping begin to tire you as you stand towering above them, thick roots anchoring you beyond hope of movement. You soon begin to let the world fade from view. The chattering of the birds becomes quieter and quieter until all is nothing.
    You sleep.


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  • August 22, 2017 - 7:11am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • AbigailSauble

    It can be really hard to write a personification of an inanimate object. And yet, in this, you showed that a tree really isn't inanimate. ;) Great descriptions!

    over 2 years ago