Chelsea offers up a short poem on her multi-layered TBR pile. I could post the whole poem here, but she’s worth a visit. A very funny lady who hosts a weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. It’s a hoot if you want to join in.
The tow’r beside my bed, you see is quite the work of art attempting to break all the charts for manmade apogees….
Ack, I meant this to post at 9AM and scheduled it for 9PM! But oh, are you in for a treat! Master storyteller Teagan Geneviene outdid herself with this one. Enjoy!
Theatre of Bardic Rumination
The letter came at last. On the back of the envelope was a blob of green wax, sealed with the royal crest. Beulah Andraste swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Hands shaking, she ripped the paper while trying to open the missive.
“Look at you, woman!” Beulah’s reflection chided her. “Nervous and weak-kneed as a girl. You’re teasing yourself. What foolishness for you to apply to be the Great Drake’s reader. You already know that envelope contains a rejection. And worse still to be accepted! As soon as your dried-up old voice creaks, the old serpent will roast and eat you.”
“Don’t be silly,” she told herself.
“Silly? You know there is a reason why there are frequent calls for new readers! And just look at you. The Great Drake collects more than just books. It hoards beautiful things. Shiny new, pretty things. You are old and disgusting,” came the reflections of her true thoughts.
Turning her back, the old woman walked stiffly to her table. She glanced at the single bookcase that held her treasures — twenty or so books that she had read dozens of times.
She had not applied in hope of the posh accommodations, or the status and admiration accorded the royal readers. No, Beulah simply desired to read the books amassed by the Great Drake. She sat down on the hard chair and perused the letter beneath the royal seal. She gasped!
“Beulah Andraste, your application has been processed. You have been…
Today, I’m taking a challenge from a blog called Myths of the Mirror to write about your to-be-read (TBR) pile. Below is a poem I wrote about piles of books past and present. You can click the link below the poem to hear me read it.
THE LEANING TOWER OF BOOKS
by Abbie Johnson Taylor
In my youth, before Kindle and Audible,
it stood on my coffee table,
threatening to fall at any minute,
a pile of green boxes containing books on cassettes
borrowed from my regional talking book library.
I read one or two, then added one or two more,
never ran out of books.
Now, there’s no leaning tower
but a list of titles in my Kindle, Audible and other libraries.
I read one or two, then acquire one or two more,
will never get through them all in one lifetime.
Cheryl offers up a lovely intro and a poem with some clever rhyming. I hope you enjoy!
Good morning friends! In my current state of inspiration, I decided to follow Dan’s lead and participate in the writing challenge hosted by Myths of the Mirror. Dee’s prompt for today is #TBR. Visit her blog at the link to get details about how her system works.
In short, TBR refers to those lonely books waiting patiently for us to turn or return our attention to them. While most folks say they don’t use e-readers, I am different in that I do both. I love a great book in hand, smelling the pages, looking at the illustrations, seeing the typed print on the page, etc. But in my current circumstance it is not possible to have all my treasured friends with me so I must depend on the electronic readers I have. Notice I said ‘readers’, as in plural…
This little bit of fiction was created for the “TBR Pile Challenge” fromD. Wallace Peach. Writing fiction on demand, as it were, is not easy for me. However, I do enjoy it when I have a subject that suits me. I have been working on some serious fiction projects, and I am finding it easier to dig in when challenged. Thanks to Diana for a prompt that bounces between two things I enjoy – reading and woodworking.
On Top of the Basket
After a loud knock to let me know she was coming, in case I was using a power tool, she enter the shop. She had brought me a new cup of coffee, but her expression told me there was more to this visit.
“Here, I figured your coffee was gone or cold…” She blew a small pile of sawdust off the top of my to-go cup…
A pile of gems “To be read” as they are called resting on my shelves. Just off one more burden and I shall commence to feed my soul with them. This commitment to self every time I device
Being a part of that race where everyone must chase career, success, love or maybe to owe allegiance to the circumstances for, if I choose to exit the race that defines I shall be left to efface
The gems- waiting for me to embrace long enough by now-wearing off a layer of dust covering their shine as I see them weep_ or maybe, it isjust my soul weeping and reflectingthrough the long-kept gems.