Ideas and Thoughts

*A/N* Early Mornings, Disappearances, and Apparitions is actually a true story of the other morning when we went to feed the horses, only the names are altered ;) hope everyone enjoys!!!!

**Two poems, unrelated except for they both have something to do with North, and both were written while I listened to a song called North. 1 is inspired by a character from a novel I'm working on, and 2 is just part of an idea that may one day become a novel, who knows.**

            The school gym was buzzing with sounds of activity – shoes against the shiny floors; feet thumping on the bleachers; phones ringing; shrieks from a group of children playing tag in the corner. Kids of all ages sprawled across the fold-out bleachers along the walls with their friends and parents. A woman led her freshly scrubbed baby across the room to take her place at the end of a long line.

        "Nadezda! Nadezda Deirdre Andriette Galrock! Come here please!" Mrs. Galrock called into the backyard. "And hurry!"

       "I'm coming," called back the voice of her daughter, Nadezda.

       Mrs. Galrock waited patiently as she saw her daughter appear out of the backyard." You need to clean your room for our guests tonight."

      "Yes, Mom." Nadezda went inside and hurried upstairs to do her mother's bidding.

            The town is Chestnutgrove; a small town with a large heart. A traveler passing through our fair town will cross a bridge. If he is very observant he will notice the low muddy river that winds through the brush beneath it. The towering trees on the far bank, lifting their leafy arms toward Heaven, are a stark contrast to the dry, slate rock hill that stands opposite them like an angry giant, his face void of expression.

**Yep, it happened.  I finally was able to find a better name for this book.  Triumvir.  (Pronounced try-UM-vur, almost like triumphant, only with a vir instead of a phant.)  Triumvir means "a ruling body of three".  At this point, I think my chapters are going to start getting a little confusing, as I'm not too sure where I'm going right now, plot-wise...so any "constructive criticism" comments would be most welcome. :)**

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**Part Three and still going strong... I wonder how many more parts it will be before the end...? Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts, and of course, Enjoy! :) **

Notebook flipped open to an empty page

Pencil in hand, eraser in range

A mess of ideas desperately waiting to be written

But yet I think to myself, "Where is my inspiration?!"

Empty, like a useless vessel, I feel

If I was really blessed with such an incredible gift

Why am I not pouring it out to the world?

Oh what a God-given gift I have blessed with!

The gift to design a world of my own

The gift to sing without a voice

The gift to fly on the wings of the wind