Poets' Picnic

A day for weaving sestinas with free verse, nature's colors and sounds with ocean breezes - all in poetry, of course. A gathering, six is enough for that, of poets under the shade of towering pines, near a blossoming butterfly bush and a rejuvenating hush broken only by each poet's words. This was four days ago now, but what wonderful memories continue their powerful energy within me.

If nobody visits a blog, is the energy invested in composition and storage merely a waste of resources? Something to ponder and part of why I haven't returned for several months. Meanwhile, my characters spout their needs and tales onto paper elsewhere.