With a lens which highlights only the attractions!
A computer will never take the place of a human wordsmith/editor. Robots and artificial intelligence cannot duplicate the true emotion that lives in the connotative nuances of words. Only the heart and soul can breathe life into black-and-white ink splotches on a crumbled page which will become art, drama, perception, persuasion, and pre-cognition. It is our history, our current timeline, and our future. The human brain and Universal mind produces words that sing, inform, rejoice, or weep; sometimes, most often heard in the silent pauses between descriptive utterances of voice and breath.
Hence, the philosophy of one lone humble poet and writer, “bowmanauthor/bowmaneditor”.
The eloquence of words doth lure the pure of heart and cure the ills of spirit.
Beauty of verse transfers all times, all rhymes, all minds.
We write in light upon our psyche and share, if we dare.
A poet is a worthsmith, creating new lit with her/his gift.
Deborah A. Bowman
I am a notorious wordsmith; this is my obsession.
I agonize over a conjunction or a preposition.
Adjectives are dear friends to me,
But my descriptive pals must let me see
A word painting come to life on the page!
I don’t count the words to set my gauge
Of whether I’ve said enough or way too much.
I brainstorm the words in a mad rush,
Then go back to the start and begin again.
I cut and I add, question and doubt, change and rearrange.
It’s like a Scrabble game; you make the words fit
With the luck of the draw, bit by bit,
Combined with the letters on the gameboard in play
To select words in a new and different way.
Such is the story and frank admission
Of a writer of words with a crazed obsession.
Deborah A. Bowman, wordsmith