They say the best things in life are always free,
But if I found they cost a little, that's alright by me.
A big enveloping hug by the woodfuel stove,
With cakes and biscuits and tea,
after the distance, we drove.
The laugh-filled conversation in great big comfy chairs
I love hiding in those chairs surrounded by quilts I made.
With plenty of room for a big pot of nice tea.
A big dog snoozing on my lap,
Snuggled between the threads as I move the needle in and out
Always eases the heart and mind, that's a fact.
Standing just outside the door gazing for miles around
The smell of the rain on the dusty air
about to fall on fields of purple, yellow, and green.
Oh, yes! Life is the best and it's free.
About the Creator
Diana Trezona
I've always been crafty, mostly with cross-sticth and quilting, but when I met my husband and became part of the entertainment industry my creativity grew in leaps and bounds. And now I'm writing lots of things. So happy!
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The Child
Earlu froze, talons gripped around a deer, still as a stone as the tiny human wandered into sight between the great oaks. As their eyes locked on his, they flinched slightly at the mountain of animal in front of them. Mere seconds went by during that look, and Earlu watched as their fear of the forest (and whatever had driven them in here) was replaced by fear of him and then switched back again. Maybe it was his size that encouraged the child to run over and grasp his front leg, thinking that this beast would be able to handle anything the forest threw at them. Earlu breathed in and gazed down at the child, discreetly moving the deer away from the child's eye lines. Gazing down, the child was barely tall enough to reach over his talons, it's tears streamed down its face as it clung desperately to his ankle. Then the smell of acrid smoke started to reach his nose, looking up at the sky behind him was the thick plume signaling that the small collection of huts near the edge of the forest was vanishing in flames.
By Diana Trezona2 years ago in Fiction
About Writing
Most people talk about things that bother them as a way to vent their emotions, another way is through writing. As I sit writing in my car, I ponder how much writing, in itself, has helped me become the person I am today. I have endless amounts of pages filled with poems, stories, and sometimes random blurbs. Writing is a window into your soul. The simple action of writing has benefited me; by helping me to achieve a better memory, helping me to learn and grow intellectually, and helping me to communicate my emotions.
By Sarah Wilcoxa day ago in Journal
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