The Mountain and the Wind

Upon the Earth the steadfast Mountain lies,
Through aeons His purpose immutable,
For change crumbles and grinds His rigid highs,
And shifts and turns change His walls to rubble.
The sprightly Wind looked down upon the rock
And felt her free heart ache at his solitude.
“Never can one rejoice alone and stuck!”
The Wind thus resolved, “No more shall He brood!”
She then tickled, she played, she laughed for Him
Until He cheered her games with deep guffaws.
Yet all too soon the friends began to grow grim…
For keeping them apart were Nature’s laws.
The Mount stood too fast while Wind danced too quick,
The constant with the ethereal won’t last.



Crystalline winds of the North
Engulfed, melted
In the belly of the Southern breeze
And the blanched face of Mother Earth
Gains a rosy glow
As fresh blossoms smile at the Sun,
Scattering their fair skirts over sodden ground
Carpeting it to welcome new life.
Snowdrops gaze upon the kind features
Of Lady Spring
Curtseying to Monsieur Winter
Who bows to her in sweet farewell:
“Until we meet again.”

The Problem with Word Limits (plus a consideration of a future piece)

For one of my final pieces during my first year of uni, we were given a very brief… well, brief for a story. It was so brief a brief that we were literally asked to “write an original piece of prose” and given a 2500 word limit. Now, it’s not that I had a problem with the lack of specific instruction on the piece as it allowed for all of us to write about exactly what we wanted, but after speaking with many of my peers I realised that the word count was what held a lot of people back.

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