Word Force

We meet each month in groups of eight or ten and bring our words on scripted pads to share. Each author takes a turn to read heart prints while others contemplate the words to wit: Is message clear? Are words astute? Obscure? Might we discern the writer's aim and sift through dross to find the diamonds clothed within? What may be gained from author's point of view? Will this dispatch appeal to all, or none? We search to bring unique pathos to life, to pull the reader's thoughts within our own and form a link to flame a stranger's heart. The writer's wage cannot be weighed in gold nor can his joy be rationed as a meal. His words will die as drivel flung in air fit only for the buzzard's taste for spoil unless we glean and bring fresh shining pearls. If so, the words will spin as golden threads and weave tomorrow's youth in wisdom's path. When words become a light to spell the dark, the writer's wage can then be weighed as gain.