The poem has a one-word title, and the first letter of the title is also the first letter of each of the seven lines (for seven sisters). There are six syllables in each line because only six of the sisters are visible with the naked eye.
Kerry also introduced another new element to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads today: the group's newest member, namely Yours Truly: Kay, with whom I seem to have spent my entire life.
I'm thrilled to have been invited to become a member of this terrific group, because, in a short time, Real Toads has been influential in getting me to break out of my rut and try new things. I am convinced, and I hope rightly, this will help me break out of my long-standing inability to get back to the style with which I started my book An Unfittie's Guide to Adventurous Travel. To any writer, a prolonged siege of Writer's Block is not only unpleasant, it can also be dangerous. Not fatal, one hopes, but dangerous in that the longer we stop, the longer we are apt to stay stopped.
I was thinking this past week about my father, who died two years ago this month, and remembering how he never seemed to let himself get bogged down by such a thing. In fact, if I might be so bold on his behalf, I could say he probably didn't even believe in Writer's Block. If he didn't feel like writing, he'd go for a walk on the beach to clear his head, then go back to his typewriter. He never did have a computer, but he did agree to accept my brother's gift of an electronic typewriter, which made corrections easier to handle. In the process of editing his Living Rivers books (which was not a difficult job, because he wrote well) I would enter them into a computer before delivery to his publisher.
funny, handsome young man,
faithful husband to Mom,
free spirit, eccentric,
filling our lives up with
finding self in travel,
fishing, writing—our Dad.