Here's a break from all the food stuff, especially after my obsessive rant on pizza; a blog I want to edit. Anyone who actually reads these, a note; this is a testing ground for my writing. I like to write and have been doing so for a long time. I hope, over time to get the opinions of others as to my ability, a little ego stroking is welcomed. Below is a prose I wrote this afternoon, this is the first time I've ever publicly displayed my creative writing. Good thing 'cause I don't think any one is looking. Ha!
I cross the bustling lower east side intersection, the sun brings odd warmth on this winter noon. Across my path illuminated by the solstice glow; I see three of them. Three beautiful women. They stride separate but as one ...
Look at them. Though I do not want to see. I prefer they not exist. Rather, that they do not see me. I may, otherwise offer my heart to each though they do not request it. With a contrived smile I will falter and give my all, though they will not desire it.
Beautiful three, I desire your embrace. From within I am not more than a boy in need of your comfort, your love, your gaze.
I wish that I do not to see them. I stiffen at the nape and fix my eye forth; I do not desire the heart ache of rejection. I imagine the sound of their honestly beautiful, though harrowing giggles at my efforts ...
I move forth. The man without, desperately moves with covered eye to protect the boy within.
"The heart within"
J.A. Freeman
I cross the bustling lower east side intersection, the sun brings odd warmth on this winter noon. Across my path illuminated by the solstice glow; I see three of them. Three beautiful women. They stride separate but as one ...
Look at them. Though I do not want to see. I prefer they not exist. Rather, that they do not see me. I may, otherwise offer my heart to each though they do not request it. With a contrived smile I will falter and give my all, though they will not desire it.
Beautiful three, I desire your embrace. From within I am not more than a boy in need of your comfort, your love, your gaze.
I wish that I do not to see them. I stiffen at the nape and fix my eye forth; I do not desire the heart ache of rejection. I imagine the sound of their honestly beautiful, though harrowing giggles at my efforts ...
I move forth. The man without, desperately moves with covered eye to protect the boy within.
"The heart within"
J.A. Freeman
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
jafreeman1:
Thank you, I appreciate the input. I never considered cadence though I'm aware of a rhythm in my prose. I never pay attention to it, I let it flow and it feels right; perhaps I may find strength in my writing by paying a little more attention ...
jafreeman1:
Thanks madam (I don't think you meant to duplicate your comment so I deleted one ...)