by redclay | Feb 4, 2020 | Poetry
The Rock Outside of its Box
Autumn Billings, Friends of Guest House, October 2019
The rock outside of its box is no different than you or me & you and I.
The rock outiside of its box is a reflection of pure beauty that took its precious time.
The rock outside of its box lead me to write this rhyme of how
the rock outside of its box is no different than you or I.
The rock outside of its box is still shy.
Observation: Rock of Some Sort – The Rock inside the Box
I noticed the rock inside the box was black, grey, and white.
The rock inside the box also had a streak of silver which was really bright.
The rock inside the box was rough
I noticed when I went to feel.
The rock inside the box was very calm and still.
by redclay | Feb 4, 2020 | Poetry
My Journey
Autumn Billings, Friends of Guest House, October 2019
1. My journey has been like the wind during a storm or hurricane
2. My journey has been like an ant carrying 10x’s its weight on its back trying to make it home alone
3. My journey has been like an unhealing scar to the skin – an open wound
There was a new voice – its whispered softly. It felt gentle and sweet. The new voice told me a secret, the secret of how to live life in the universe on my own to feet.
by redclay | Nov 23, 2019 | Creative Writing
Autumn Billings, Friends of Guest House, November 2019
Once upon a time there lived a princess in a small village in the Shenandoah Valley. Her name was Autumn. The young princess always had a passion for harvesting plants, flowers, and crops throughout the year. She would find so much joy in her garden.
When the weather was warm she would plant oak trees. When the weather was hot she would plant a variety and an abundance of seeds. When the weather would begin to cool off she would plant strawberries and when the weather became extremely cold she would care for her house plants inside her home. Every year and every season was different of what Autumn would harvest each year.
But Autumn’s philosophy about harvesting and raising cops never changed. Autumn thought that a plant no matter what it was would grow no matter if it were warm hot, chilly, or cold.
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