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Category: Poetry

What A Mess!

What A Mess!

The desks and shelves are in place, but nothing else is. I think I got everything that was on the art desk moved. I also think I’ll be working on both rooms at once for a while. Here’s another NOT-TO-SCALE sketch The yellow dashed lines give an idea how the room was cramped before. The cutting table is closer to the yarn chest and there’s only just enough room at each end to get around it and not that much…

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Sunday, Sunday

Sunday, Sunday

Poetry¬†is now live. Actually, there were a couple of poems there for a while now, but I added two more. Wall Yesterday I got to the little wall I mentioned on Friday. I didn’t have enough bricks, so we’ll be headed back to Lowe’s tomorrow. The near end (bottom) needs to be three bricks tall, I think, to about where it ends (top) now. Then it should be two down to one. Maybe. Iqbal likes it so much that he…

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Rainy Sunday

Rainy Sunday

It’s been raining fairy steadily for two days now, and off and on for at least two days before that. It’s good. We need it. I did this page a while ago. It was just colors on the page and then I sketched in what I saw in those colors. I wrote the poem, but haven’t actually pasted it down, yet, so that’s a bit of digital magic. That’s more or less how it’ll look when I’m done, though. (The…

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More Puttering

More Puttering

Dear Brother and Nephew hung cupboards, replaced dryer vent piping, and removed door. YAY!! Not having the dark “wall” (door) right next to the sink opens and lightens the room so nicely. The microwave is defunct, so it will be moved out. (I don’t need one here anyway.) I’ll move the drawers down to that end. Still need to paint the corner cupboard and touch up the ends of the “new” cupboards. My art paints are now in the left…

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Lost

Lost

Today I am lost Mellow in music Time displaced A child again Very old, too. Don’t know how I got here Afraid to ask Or dig too deep Afraid of losing lost. It’s summer days running in a field. Sun shining. Wind blowing. Birds singing. I know I am loved by life itself. No words needed. Just lost In life. ¬© F. Shafer Junaid 2021