Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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If I could dance a sarabande, perhaps we’d measure, hand to hand, our paces on the gleaming floor together, confident and sure; If I could mark the minuet, I’d bolder be, try not to fret, but fix my eyes upon your own while yet my heart beats, overthrown; If I could tread a bright courant, appearing suave and nonchalant, perhaps you’d fathom my disguise and my dissembling not despise, for if my blood trips in gavott
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I liked this story very much. It neither papered over the damage done to Stevie, nor did it paint all religion in dark, forbidding colors. Instead, it offered us hope and healing.
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You give hope to us who have lost both our dear ones and our dark hair. Thanks.
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Thank you very much!
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Thank you for ascending the hill to watch the midsummer dawn with me. I’m glad you found it enjoyable to rise so early and watch the summer awaken.
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Thank you for joining me on a predawn climb up the hill. Only at midsummer will early mist mix with the birdsong at first light, I’m very glad you liked it.
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I’m very happy you liked this. These long midsummer days are among my favorite times of year.
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Thank you for coming to the hilltop with me.
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Thank you so much for reading this and for sharing your reactions. The tarot illustration is an image I hadn’t thought of, but it’s certainly very apt. I love it.
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Come walk with me beneath the veil that shrouds the eastward hill and blankets field and fir in shadows thick; no stars to see but swirling mists that hide the deer and waking birds to tease the ear, So if you will our way through tall and dewy grasses pick an upward sloping course our feet may steer while all lies still wrapped warm in domesticity and dreamland’s restful reverie, But breathing quick we climb the r
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Glad you’re here. I know you will find some good things worth reading soon.
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The news of Carlos’ loss left me stunned. He was the first person to comment on my first short story, teasing that he’d taken my comment cherry. I will miss bantering and sparring with him over phrasing or syntax, and his always honest, yet good-humored conversations. The world will be dimmer and more silent without him. I salute you, Carlos; I will miss you, my friend. I see, but no words form; I read, yet meaning eludes me, even as my hands turn dog-eared pages, old friends you wrote into the fabric of my life stay mute because your pen lies still; I mourn our brief friendship and weep.
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I’m very glad you found Rick and Gus. They continue to be a ray of sunshine in a darkening world to me. Thanks a million for reading, and for your comments.
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Poor Liam; it seems as if anyone needing a convenient scapegoat or target takes aim at him. The loud Mr. Roud is about to use Liam to save his own posterior in a legal or civil action, I’d wager. I worry for Aiden, too - hope his union and Janet will hold fast against an administrative onslaught.
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What a beautiful way to be remembered: not just an echo, but the song of life still sung.
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I’m so glad you enjoyed this story enough to want more. That warms any author’s heart. Oliver and Martin will surely have more to say to one another, but their conversation hasn’t come to me yet. Thanks so much for reading and for your response.
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Hello John, thanks for introducing yourself! I hope you will find a happy home here at GA. There are many wonderful writers and readers here to discover. Thanks again for joining and making yourself known. Parker
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Thank you, tim! These made me smile, especially the second one. It made me think about walking through a fragrant meadow as the sun is rising, hand in hand.
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I was also attracted to the second stanza, like @Wayne Gray. Together with the third stanza, I felt and heard strains of Beethoven’s Ninth symphony in it. Maybe it has to do with the final haunting lines of this poem. Thank you for sharing this.
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Number 8 echoed in my heart and brain, reverberating like a sad song in a great cathedral. It stood out to me. But re-reading number 7, my feet twitched, as if I wanted to dance for sheer delight in springtime, which has been too long in coming this year. Number 9 makes me frown, as I abhor the kind of book-banning and library censorship we're going through now. Thank you for posting these, as they brought a smile to my face.
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Not a Prompt - Fifth Haiku
Parker Owens commented on Drew Espinosa's story chapter in Not a Prompt - Fifth Haiku
I like this! I’m very glad you posted it. -
April 18th to April 31st
Parker Owens commented on Parker Owens's story chapter in April 18th to April 31st
Thank you so much for reading this second half of my April offerings. I’m glad you found a few to hold onto in the months to come. -
quince - Word of the Day - Sun May 7, 2023
Parker Owens commented on Myr's blog entry in Writing World
Now I need to find a way to sample some of this culinary path less traveled. Your hymn to quince will me convince. -
This is an awesome chapter. Loved how you intertwined the political threads with the individual human ones, over and over. That was especially well done.
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Like you, I can point to trinkets and odd items in my home which bring a flood of memories, both good and bad. I deeply felt your question posed: How can I be lonely when my joy surrounds me? The haiku were fun to read. I thought #6 was excellent. I may print it and post it on my classroom door. Like @ReaderPaul, I thought #3 and #4 to be good, too. Thank you for collecting and posting these.
