Two of my poems have been published!

 

Ok, so truth be told, my brother is one of the owners of The Chocolate Eclectic Publishing Group. But honestly, he's a tough critic, so I'm glad I was able to get two past him.

I'm hoping to make the next book signing party in Nashville, TN in March. It will be a quick trip since I'll have to drive down and back over a 3 day weekend.

I have so much that needs to be put down in words. Now to figure out what I am willing to give up in order to make more time to write. Sleep or World of Warcraft???

I think WOW and Facebook are an addiction that have sucked up thousands of hours of my life. Instead I should be using that time more wisely creating items of beauty. Works that bring me satisfaction of life.

Drats, how time dost fly! I needs must to bed for the morrow comes early and away to work I must go, whilst others remain toasty under blankets of down. Alas, if only I had found a more pleasurable way to have made my living. Instead, I trek across the hills and vales of Eastern Kansas in the wee hours before dawn to eek out my existance. 

Winter Swing - ready for the presses

Old Piano

Turning

I want to thank my brother, John, for his editing suggestions. They made my poem...PERFECT!

What to do?


What to do when you hate your job?

The career you chose turns out all wrong,

but a six-figure income pays all your debt.

Woe the fate of frightened rat,

Foot caught tight, a financial trap.

What to do when life’s like that?

What to do when you want to run?

How to change what you’ve become,

seeming to unravel, thoroughly undone?

Know that time waits for no one.

Feeling your soul shrivel, and yet, not die.

What to do when your world makes you cry? 

What to do for some inner peace?

Halt the madness, what do you really seek?

What you want isn’t something you can buy,

money doesn’t make happiness thrive.

Your life is about choices, it’s not set in stone.

What to do is up to you alone.

© Keltic Di 2011

Selfish?

Last night's project

The Toast

Here's to us, my fair Lassies.
Let us raise our fine glasses,
hear the clinks of cut crystal
and once more tip that bottle.
Taste the wine as it passes
o'er tongues that still thirst.
To the floor, I beg, give the toast first,
Be soft, as a down-feathered mattress,
should we all drink too much and fall on our asses.

© Diana ‘11