Meandering on Monday with Janet Lane Walters #MFRWauthor #BWLPublishing #Poetry #Charity letters #Writing

nder 1 - Poem - Wandering -

I wandered through the streets today,
Just hoping for a glance.
To see your face just dimly
Through the glass of your place of work.
You didn't see me standing.
You didn't know I was there,
Nor did I soothe my yearnings.
They call for more than looks
And even if you can't return
I'll try to understand
My feelings or my hopes.
I'll continue to watch and love you
While afraid to make a move.

Meander 2 - Charity letters - My husband and I donate to 12 charities at the end of the year. The letters start coming in June or July. There are also phone calls to which I politely reply that I will give but once a year and I know when that is. Don't call. Most don't. But they send letters. Last week on two days, I received letters, five of them from the same charity. Don't they understand they are wasting money with these multiple mailings and also the paper used to send them. There are a few I appreciate, mostly local ones who do not bug you all the time and send a thank you note when you contribute, not another begging letter.

Meander 3 - Writing - Am on the last bit of The Virgo Pisces Connection. Last chapter being typed in and will need revised but once that's done, I'll ship it off to the editor. Am doing a bit of work on The Children of Fyre, a fantasy. Then I'll have to start planning for the next round of books to write. Two in the Moon Child series and one fantasy, in the Lines of Fyre trilogy.

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Saturday - Wandering - Reading #MFRWauthor #amreading

 Just exploring this a bit for a post on the other blog where I do a monthly bit. Books We Love, one of my publishers.

I am a writer because I was a reader. I read early and that was due to my grandfather. He would hold me onhis lap and read slowly while running his finger beneath the words. My mother says he did this from the time I was an infant and she thought it was funny and foolish. He told her one day I would read. My memories of this time are cloudy and people say memories don't really start at the age of two or below but every time I read or hear John Donne's poetry, I see a picture of a small girl with flyaway hair, neither brown or blonde sitting on a man's lap and hearing things like "Go and catch a falling star" or For whom the bell tolls," and other lines from the poems and sermons of John Donne. My grandfather was from New England, Fall River to be exact. The voice I hear has that accent. I do remember one day when I was three years old and I read to him. His response was "She needs a library card." And so I got one. The librarian thought this was so he could take out books. He shook his head. "She can read and he had me read a passage from a book I'd never seen. This was the first time I had to prove myself but there was another time but that's for a later discussion. By the time I was ninw, I had read all the books in the children's section of the library. Causing a problem and that was one my father solved. That also comes after I had to prove I could read a second time. But enough for now.

Next week the regular schedule will resume provided the next scheduled guest sends me the material I need. I will remine and then nag.