Monday, April 28, 2008

Featured Poet: Janna Lutz

"Janna has wanted to be a writer ever since she learned how to spell her name. She published her first children's book in 2001 and is actively workinig on her second book. Janna has been involved in freelance and ghost writing for over two years, doing everything from fashion articles to books. She considers poetry her hobby...a way to keep the creative juices flowing."
With the understated excitement of a true hobbyist, Janna Lutz has shared her poetry like wooden bird carvings would be placed on a shelf, or coin collection books would be strategically placed on a table. I have also added a link to her blog. Take note, readers. I have added a side column with blogs that you can access by clicking on them with your mouse button. This will further the E-Community we are trying to build. And the E stands for Internet, still.
Renewed Interest

Pieces of my spirit are scattered at my feet as

I sit beneath the ever swaying willow trees in

my mind. Old tears have created a flowing river,

and new ones bathe the fresh grasses like a blanket

of dew. My mourning had almost claimed what was

left of my heart. And this meadow has become both

my refuge and my prison. And now there is you…

There is the warmth in your touch and I am so

hopeful for your love. Soften my jaded heart

and kiss the broken parts of me that you are

holding. This is a strange and uncertain road that

I am peering at. Let me see once more through

your opened eyes. I can smile knowing that the

sun will soon rise and light the way into your arms.


There is beauty in the strangest

Places; there is love in the most

Delicate of forms. My eyes can

Peer into a vast existence; my

Thoughts meander down the

Oddest of corridors. My mind

Is dancing and tripping, running

In circles until I am dizzy and

Out of breath. I want to feel the

Warmth of creativity in my veins,

And a familiar smile that arrives

With spontaneity. Be my muse

And tickle my imagination with

Delicacies that replenish even

My soul.


Here I am, standing here at

the beginning of something.

The dawn has opened her

eyes and is now looking my

way. Give me your smile of

hope and tell me that I am

okay. My muse has finally

remembered her touch and

caressed my hand. Her lips

are against my ear, and her

sweet words have inspired

the fluttering of an endless

multitude of creative ideas.

My pen is no longer asleep

and yearns to be beckoned,

to feel the flow of my craft

like a current of luminous

waters. For joy- I am awake.