When someone reads my little writings I want them to feel inspired, uplifted, hopeful, and warm. Some literature makes one think, other literature calls for change, while some reveals the often unsettling truth. Literature such as this is good, and often used to better the mind or challenge preconceived thoughts. Other literature, however, serves as a pastime, a place to escape and dream. That is the purpose I want my writing to serve. I want my readers to feel comfortable, at home when they read my work. I also, and most importantly, want to reflect God's love with my writing. I feel a sense of release when I write these, and I want my readers to feel the same as they let the words sink into their heart.
my love quotations:
All I hear is silence, where I'm supposed to hear your voice.
My thoughts of you just can't keep up with the slowness of my pen.
I can't let go without knowing,
because I can't live without loving;
and I can't love without you.
My love for you, I don’t know where it’s from
This love, impossible to stop once it has begun
November
by Jessica K. Shannon
November reminds me of you
You and your love that
Turns a golden hue and
Falls into my smile.
You came to me here
When the summer had past
Near the wide swing
The spark in my laugh.
...to be continued
White-Washed Memories
a novella in progress by J.K.S.
One by one she smiled at them, each with a lovely book clasped in their hands. One was velvet black, another cherry red. Still more, one was copper-hued and the last a delicate ivory. Each starry-eyed girl possessed a deep affection for her "book of dreams," so it was entitled, and carried it with her wherever she went. The little dreamers mentioned were four sisters. So alike, yet extremely different in their ways and temperaments were each, that they got along splendidly. Of course quarrels here and there happened on occasion, but nothing amounting to very great importance.
...to be continued
White-Washed Memories
a novella in progress by J.K.S.
One by one she smiled at them, each with a lovely book clasped in their hands. One was velvet black, another cherry red. Still more, one was copper-hued and the last a delicate ivory. Each starry-eyed girl possessed a deep affection for her "book of dreams," so it was entitled, and carried it with her wherever she went. The little dreamers mentioned were four sisters. So alike, yet extremely different in their ways and temperaments were each, that they got along splendidly. Of course quarrels here and there happened on occasion, but nothing amounting to very great importance.
...to be continued
