She is an ingenious writer and an avid reader, moody in times of depression and defensive of everything that concerns her family.
The daughter of the lovely Mrs. Lourdes Macachor and the witty Mr. Romell Macachor who accompanies thy lady in times of trials and destructions.
Lover of bewildering magic, the dashing mystiques of nature and the comical beings.
Who feels befuddled of the world and its mysteries, gratified of the love she receives and blissful for her family’s astounding support.
Who needs affection, something every man desires; protection, the kind born out of love and courage, a test of wits and bravery.
Who gives a rhythmic hymn that enlightens the heart, a mysterious smile that confuses the mind and a piercing look that endangers the spirit.
Who fears death and its consequences, seclusion and the loneliness it brings, ghastliness and everything fearful that pounds on the heart.
Who would like to see the beaming lights of Paris, the depths of the Caribbean and the height of the pyramids.
Resident of Budlaan, where flowers bloomed and trees tower like giants.
ABOUT "SCRIBBLED POETRY"
I make up stories in my head. I'm a dreamer and sometimes perhaps a lunatic. Writing keeps me sane and while I'm no New York Times Best Seller (yet), I'd love to call myself an author. This blog serves as my digital manuscript. I've kept countless poems, stories and whimsical thoughts for years but never got to share them publicly for fear that people would steal them and take the credit. (Which someone already did by the way! If you're planning to do the same then scoot. I can track you down like a bloodhound.) But it would likewise be a pain to keep them for myself. I'd love for people to enjoy them as I did writing them. — Anne Macachor