We all have a favorite song, something we sing in the shower; favorite recipe, something we cook for friends and family; favorite time of year. Perhaps, when buds on trees appear.
I have a favorite poem:
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,--
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
For there is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
There is magic in three. Think three little pigs, three little bears, three wise men. When writing, three gives a sense of completion. It is the third example that usually clinches it. Think ABC in the alphabet. When writing a book, there is a beginning, middle, and an end.
"Because no matter how dark your secret is, it gets lighter each time you tell it to someone else."--Regan Hofmann, from her book, "I Have Something to Tell You."
Until this time next time.
See you in print,
Linda Della Donna
Linda Della Donna is a freelance writer. Opt-in at Griefcase for a copy of her free ebook, and to learn more about the writing services she offers.