Sharon Frayne
  • Home
  • Art Work
  • About
  • Contact me
  • Blog
  • Caught Between the Walls
  • Upcoming Events

Welcome to WORDS and ART

Picture
Picture

Picture
15/01/2021
Today, I'm the featured writer in Joan Dempsey's Gutsy Great Novelist Writers Studio. Here's my response to the question: When did you first realize you wanted to write a novel? Was there a particular person or experience that inspired you?

​My younger sisters' bedroom adjoined mine, with nightly consequences. I invented a communication code and taped it to the back walls of our side-by side closets. Long after we were supposed to be asleep, I'd go into the closet and communicate with them through a series of special knocks. Taking two flashlights, I crawled into the dark hallway and shone lights on the back wall of their bedroom. The wild, invented stories began. Often, they were inspired by a children's novel I'd just read. It was important to keep this a secret from our parents, who'd ruin all the fun if they knew!

Knock, knock. Time for a story.

Comes the Storm and Pauline Johnson

7/16/2017

0 Comments

 
Picture
I've been researching Pauline Johnson for a new short story I'm working on.  She spent four summer vacations in Rosseau, quite close to where I live.  She loved to paddle her canoe in early mornings, and I love her poem about the Shadow River here in Rosseau.  This is what it looked like when I was out on the lake this morning.  The storm came soon after and lasted most of the day. 

MUSKOKA - E. Pauline Johnson
A stream of tender gladness
Of filmy sun, and opal tinted skies;
Of warm midsummer air that lightly lies
In mystic rings,
Where softly swings 
The music of a thousand wings
That almost tones to sadness.

Midway t'wixt earth and heaven,
A bubble in the pearly air, I seem
To float upon the sapphire floor, a dream
Of clouds of sno,
Above, below,
Drift with my drifting, dim and slow,
As twilight turns to even.

The little fern-leaf, bending
Upon the brink, its green reflection greets,
And kisses soft the shadow it meets
With touch so fine,
The border line
The keenest vision can't define
So perfect is the blending.

The far, fir trees that cover
The brownish hills with needles green and gold,
The arching elms o'erhead, vinegrown and old,
Repictured are
Beneath me far,
Where not a ripple moves to mar
If I but dip my paddle blade;
And it is mine alone.

O! pathless world of seeming!
O! pathless life of mine whose deep ideal
Is more my own than ever was the real.
For others Fame
And Love's red flame,
And yellow gold: I only claim
The shadows and the dreaming.


​
0 Comments

Your comment will be posted after it is approved.


Leave a Reply.

    Author

    Sharon Frayne is a writer and artist. She is a member of the Canadian Author's Association, the Niagara Writer's Circle and the Pumphouse Art Gallery. She looks for the universal experience and the mystery in everyday things.

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Home
  • Art Work
  • About
  • Contact me
  • Blog
  • Caught Between the Walls
  • Upcoming Events