A writer is a listener and observer. Being the youngest, by far, in a family of five children (in an era when we were taught to be seen and not heard) I learnt those two abilities early. In the 1970s I started jotting Jean’s World.
Jean’s World I have not travelled far nor risen high ~ but ah! what a life I’ve
seen what a glorious world for Jean © 1978
Duskpines Three pines on a hill navy ~ black ~ still ~ clear-edged ~ sharp ~
minutely stark, against the pale pink breast, of quiet sunset ~
this day’s last gentle kiss ~ a lingered sigh ~ goodbye ©Jan. 1983
Small Moment Locusts are humming and strumming their legs. They sing with the wind as it rips and it tears. In all the whole world with its wars and its crime I love God’s small moments of locusts’ song time ~ © February 1983
Moons & Clouds & Trees & Footpaths © year 2000.
The moon is a bright, white ball ~ or not at all; a squashed up circle, a flat banana or lost in the dark forever after.
Clouds can be white or black or grey ~ mostly slow and moving away. Or they can be heavy or fluffy or streaky, animals, castles, light or leaky.
Trees in the rain are full of surprises, lifting their branches, waving their leaves. When they are drinking they swell and they breathe ~ grow as you watch ~ turn shiny- bright- green.
Footpaths lead to other places; turn on corners; stop on roads. It all depends on the way you’re going – uphill, downhill, to-ing or froing.
So these are a few of my observing minutes; those minutes when the urge to catch … is stronger than the lethargy to ignore. I have probably used all of the above in my books and my handwritten book of ‘Jean’s Small Moments’ keeps filling up …… and spilling into another!
This is Jean L Allen hoping you are enjoying your reading or writing, today.