Wizardry

Notwithstanding my deficient writing in a foreign language, I keep coming here. English words are music to me. Its sounds take me to a magical and smooth land where things are cozier and prettier. It is a nameless place full of new dreams, new hopes, new wishes, new thoughts and new fragrances, like the smell of white pepper on my old Irish turtleneck. It is a land full of creeks, forests and green fairies. When I am here, I sleep on fresh fields covered with moss and moist leaves, on soft and shiny fields like the velvet on a deer. When I am here, gleaming stars wink at me. At dusk, when light is dim, I am shrouded in mist, but I never feel cold, never feel lonely; I am surrounded by love, poetry and unspeakable joy. English entices me and I have no choice but resting in this wizard region where words whistle. I am so afraid to break the spell that I keep coming here.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: