Hiatus

I apologise for the hiatus! I've been extremely busy over the past few months but have recently acquired some spare time! Thanks for the patience!


This is my new blog: http://www.immaculateimagery.blogspot.com/ if you want to come and check it out!


Thanks guys!


That Wordy Writer

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The Warm Room

As sunlight filters through the bright vermillion curtains, the walls glimmer in the summer light. I see the sun through the curtains beaming like a firefly set high in the cerulean sky. The rays spread to the deep burgundy floor, which shimmers in the sun. My toes capture the warmth, which floods steadily through my body like humidity. My bed, entranced by daylight’s rays, seems to smile at my wardrobe, as a drowsy sunbather might do on a temperate day out of the sun. Minute particles of dust waft in and out of view like dancing, glittery fairies, very much alive for their daytime parties. Photographs on the wall, though some cracked, many a tie caught me reminiscing over times now lost, though memories staying fresh incessantly, never decaying. My loved ones in the picture seemed to call out to me in tender, yet inaudible words. They too seemed at ease basking in the majestic sun’s beam.

The Rose

I don’t remember a lot of things; usually I cannot help but be clutched by the whittling hands of life. Sometimes when I sit perfectly still and trick myself into a soft slumber, my dreams swiftly manage to escort me away from my weary life to places where the memories that I can never grasp are born.
In my dreams I may visit a lush though overgrowing garden, deep in the crevices of May.  The amber sun bores heartily on my back as I explore the garden. I lean over the harlequin grass to move the messy thorns with such care not to harm myself, I spy an object of such beauty that not even the garden’s excitements could not compare. As a larger quantity of thorn-ridden branches fall clumsily to the grass, something amidst the tiny alcove where the thorns were sparkles.
Such an object would be found being sculpted by angels in the depths of heaven; it’s a rose.
The rose shimmers as I reach out to caress one of the seemingly everlasting rose petals.
To touch the cerise petal would have the same effect as if you were to stroke a dove’s feather. I look back to my hands and gander at what they have become; the rose’s angelic magic had gently wafted away from the petals onto my hand. I could see other beatific glitter which was lightly floating away in the wind to other pastures, much further away, perhaps some with roses that were as blue as an impossible moon emitting a serene ultramarine.
Surrounded by thoughtful, tranquil scenes, the depth of my slumber intensified...

Meaningful Senselessness

All excitements and mysteries of life
It can be ever-changing in such ways
Like a south sun drowning in a north sky
Or autumn leaves fading into slate grey
Two roses locking to intertwine
A live crimson fire blazing bashful blue
The jolt of nerves when your fond eyes meet mine
Catching you dreaming, if only he knew.
A book to read containing absent text
Days when the sun glistens and the moon burns
When mirrors show what is to happen next
Perfected talent while much more to learn.
Memories blowing in and out of mind
Staying as true as a book with no bind.

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Thoughtful Reminiscing

Whenever life discovers time and a place
I think back to days when you were around
You’re smiling back at me in your embrace
Your heartbeat was the only lucid sound.
How did you make the sun surface each day?
Your laugh? Your words? Your carefulness to me?
Oh, it was how you made my life seem gay.
I know it was wrong to have set you free.
How could I ever know if it was true?
And did we really give our love a chance?
It breaks my heart because I still love you
You never give me a short second glance.
Whenever life discovers place and a time
I think back to the days when you were mine.

"To write or not to write, that is the question."

- A quote by Shakespeare.
Well sort of.
It seems like the kind of thing he might of said.
Especially if we were best friends.

Heyy everyone, this is That Wordy Writer!

After about 10 years of writing and writing whatever creative piece came to mind, I finally decided to post something every few days, whether it's a a part of a story, a poem or lyrics that I have made, it's all here for you guys!

If you like this blog, please check back :) I've worked really hard on everything here, and although sometimes everything I write may not be accurate, please try to enjoy yourself anyway :)


Well, I guess that's all for now!
Have fun reading!!


That Wordy Writer     scribble scribble


P.S. I worked really hard on everything here, so if you could refrain from clicking the copy button, I would be very grateful :)

Imprisonment

Locked away in chains forever it seems
Full of fury to whomever may pass
Abandonment of hope in all my dreams
The feelings come and go but never last
Break loose in thoughts that may or may not come
Aspire to desires of freedom
Now destroy the chains and come undone
Run young in the gardens of your kingdom
I scream savage words, even in my prayers
They go unwatched and unaccounted for
Watch as my grasp on life now starts to tear
My chains wistfully drop to the floor
Held back in chains forever it appears
Cannot the stone be melted by my tears?

About Me

My photo
I'm just a young girl who loves to write!
I've been writing stories, songs and poems ever since I could string a sentence together!
When I'm not writing I enjoy listening to music, telling everyone how tired I am, laughing and scouring Wikipedia's Colour List for any new hues!
If you like my work, I will be very grateful if you would come back to read what's new :)
Thank you everyone!
That Wordy Writer
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A place to lose yourself in sensational stories, sentimental sonnets and poems, daring decriptions and loquacious lyrics.

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    • The Unforgiving Room
    • Tuesday 26th October

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