Poetry.

It was a fateful November for a particular British student.

Anyone who’s lived in the Northern moutains and woods for any length of time knows that the coming of each season of the year is foretold by signs. And after the cities and their cacaphony, and concrete, and smells – and fears – have worn off, and you begin to find your place in the primordial nature of things, you begin to "see". You begin to listen. You begin… to feel. Inside… and out. And so… to know…

A friendship, relationship or even a connection between talented writers can strike up anywhere.All it takes is a smile and a hello to get the ball rolling in that direction. Still fascinated with Winter pictures and was determined to write a story around this one.

Just a quick, so-called poem, to say "hello" to my wonderful Triond friends.
As you know, tomorrow is December, I will either try my best to attack for the bonus or slow down totally if I have no confidence. Tomorrow I may not write for Authspot, so now I write for fun, hahaha.

DADDY.
by Aya Gano Takinan on Monday, November 22, 2010 at 12:37am.

November is a hardest month because it is a very busy month in preparation of the winter. People get hallucinated and have a little bite of paranoia because they want to get ride of the summer very quickly. So, you have to keep quite and try not to mind and therefore work on a project for the new year.

There was a lovely moon tonight here in Kansas, a blood red harvest moon rising, absolutely huge in the sky.

A college football game is on the telly.

It’s a long poem, but I had so much to say.