A Meaning Lost In Time
Surprisingly, I’m back in less than a month! A miracle occurred in my life, and I finally had a day off of work coinciding with a day of some amount productivity spurt, and as such, amongst the numerous chores I have finished today, I found time to write up a many of my handwritten poems.
Because of this, I now have bolstered my backlog somewhat, and thus should be able to upload some a little more regularly. Failing that, it means that when I inevitably forget, and come back to the site in a month’s time, I’ll at least have something prepared.
Anyway, I’ll be brief, as ‘A Nightingale’ is a very brief poem. This was written by hand in my poetry notebook around a month or so ago, and as such, I’m actually struggling to recall the inspiration behind it, or the meaning I sought to weave into the lines. As such, that classic English GCSE line of ‘there are no wrong answers’ is very much applicable here, as I truly cannot remember what the supposed ‘right answer’ would have been.
So in short, ‘A Nightingale’ exists for you to do with, and take from, as you will. My intent or greater message (if there even was one to begin with) is now lost, and thus, the poem’s meaning is whatever you desire.
My words are your canvas.
(That ‘big project’ I mentioned before is still in production, and is coming along, albeit slowly.)