Linda Sorcie Smith About Me Page at Helium

My passion is ...

crafting beautiful words and breathtaking jewelry

My parents always told me ...

I could be whatever I wanted to be

My childhood ambition ...

I have always wanted to be a writer and an artist

My inspiration ...

Whimsy, magic, fantasy, imagination

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Spring showers: 27 of 54

The keening, howling clamor Wracks the canyon as the winds Tear through. Crimson rocks stand Stoically against the buffeting of red sand And tiny pebbles that were once the Very rocks themselves. Dust clogs Holes where small creatures hide, Waiting out the winds, blinking To clear their tortured eyes. The cactus shudder, roots dug in, Determined to survive, and the Tumbleweed are crazy in their Frenzied dance. Stabbing electric shocks the sky, Crackling in its power, the roar Of thunder soon behind, an awesome Sound. The canyon knows the Violence; the rocks know. They wait A huge drop of c...
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