Good morning my blog friends, today I wanted to try something a little bit different. When I was in high school I loved to write. Poems, short stories, my brain was an endless supplier of ideas and inspirations. I would love to get a hold of that person again and start creating with the written word once more.

In anticipation of this I have found some of my old work and would like to share it with you. And along the way I will be able to start sharing new pieces. I will warn you, some of work is dark however some is very quite funny. I had an amazing creative writing teacher and she helped shape me into the writer I am today.

This is one of the reasons I love blogging so much. Its lets me be myself and share my work and free my soul. I wrote this back in high school as a project and I thought it was so amazing how I used to pour out my soul in everything I did…

My name is Tamara Morgan and I love to write because it helps me grow, to express my feelings and for pure pleasure. Throughout my years, I found that I have naturally loved to read and I am very fascinated on how powerfully authors can make their writing. Despite that, to release stress I write in my journal everyday and pour my feelings and emotions all over the page like a painter would a blank canvas. Above all that, I also write to grow, such as in school, I can get help from students to edit, which helps tremendously. Whereas, I also write for pleaser because it lets me say what is on my mind, but it is still personal. I love writing. As I have said, my name is Tamara Morgan and I love to write for the purpose of my own true desire.

So here is the first piece I want to share with you…
Music in the Breeze
Written by Tamara Morgan

as I walk my dog though the fallen dead leaves
he unexpectedly stopped and blankly stares in to the dark
I suddenly here music in the breeze
looking up seeing nothing, he begins to bark
I look for the source of the music but to my despair
the trees are blank and in the sky nothing but stars
I see nothing that can compare
where is this coming from, music from mars?
it can’t be from that far away, I ponder
I look in to the darkness of the night
how far in these woods must I wonder
these trees they give me such fright
the dog barks and wakes me from my dream
we haven’t entered the forest it was so real , or so it would seem

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