I suddenly remembered I had a blog. I'm too busy meeting actual deadlines for paid writing work to be a good blathering blogger even though everyone as in "everyone" says writers are supposed to sell themselves constantly and tweet and all that crap. I quite detest the practice. My struggle in life is to cut out all the noise and clutter and carve a path to my writing desk, not to add to it with a bunch of obligations to the uncaring world at large.
Except for you, my eleven loyal followers. I am amazed and humbled that you haven't written me off as a reticent old beast who cannot stir her stumps enough to burble on in a blog every single day. Well, things have changed and I have inspiring friends to thank for it. You can blame them if you like.
I am about to blog a poem a day. You can unfriend me or deblog acquaintance me or whatever you need to do, if you must, since I've given you fair warning. But, herewith, forsooth, and so forth, here goes!
Anglo-Saxon Alliterative Verse (oh, should have said, I'm using a different form every day as well, helped along by the wonderful book, The Shapes of Our Singing by Robin Skelton.)