Wooden Soldiers
Prose-Poetry
by Anne G
Wooden soldiers stand erect, at attention on my desk.
Straight and sturdy loyalists, born of trees and charcoal lead.
All bare scars along the sides, made by teeth in pensive thought.
Each one a tool with sharpened point, create the lines of all my muse.
They stealthily glide, page after page, imprinting each and every word.
Upon request, the soft pink heads, erase too hastily crafted prose.
Simply phrased:
I could not write one single word, without the wonderful Number 2.
JUNE 2016 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Why write? I write because I am: Driven to distraction by the inequities of the society in which we live. Motivated by cruelty, abuse, ignorance and indifference. My intention: To poke, prod and provoke!
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde
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