blank page

white screen,
blinking cursor.

white dotted line,
hovering pen.

one letter after the other,
one syllable follows another,
rhyming isn’t my rhythm
I tend to clap on the off-beat
I prefer the feat of clever rhyming,
clapping in-between the beat.

it’s unexpected,
tripping up the stairs,
like tripping over your own words,
but you reorganize your sentences,
you put your pen to paper,
your fingers to the keyboard,
you pick yourself back up again

one letter after the other.


By Meghan B.

Hello there! I'm Meghan. Thanks for checking out my blog!

Although I'm almost 30, I haven't lost my sense of child-like wonder for the world around me. I've been making up stories my whole life: My imaginative play with toys as a child has grown up with me, maturing into my imaginative wordplay with fantasy and sci-fi novels, as well as free-verse poetry. I thrive on creating something with my hands and with my mind, using my pen or my keyboard.

When I'm not working, I'm reading, writing, or knitting, I'm sleeping. I also enjoy watching Netflix, occasionally playing open-world video games, or hanging out with my family, my two golden girl retrievers Bentley and Charlie, my friends, or my boyfriend Rory.

Happy blogging!


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