I thank you most sincerely my well-worded companion.
Yea, this would suit me well.
I fear that the dread of sloth has taken some hold on my writing hand. I would that I could write novels of adventures most grand, but--I have not, as yet, done so. The literature with which I converse is primarily reserved to pursuits of a scholastic nature. Poetry, I admit to when I come by it. To read and write it is in equal value to me, for is there a more complete means of expression than rhythm and rhyme of poem or song?
I usually take my practice of words (when not for intelligent discussion or exposition) in the sense of recreation. Like that which is found is this place.
What say you on this matter? Dost your words have their place among the volumes of great writers or are you honing your skill for a future pursuit in some form of literature?
