Nneka Edwards

I love words – big ones, little ones, funny ones, sweet ones. I love juggling them around and creating pretty sentences. If I circle them in a different pattern, I might string out a phrase bursting with drama, or one sugar-dusted with sweet sadness or yet again flowery prose that blossoms with poetry. I love lyrical words like “quaint”, “crystal” and “quest.” I love hopeful words like “horizon,” “rainbow” and “spring.” This special craft courts literary class and creativity. I ardently admire its artistry. I love painting with words. I dip my brush in my imagination and create an emerald hummingbird shimmering in tropical brilliance; a dab here and a dab there and soon it is flitting in a garden full of blushing hibiscus. A few deft strokes and a whole beautiful day comes to a beautiful end with a rosy-lilac sunset. I love words. I celebrate speech that sweetens my soul with kind ointments. I swoon with language that charms my senses. I tipple wine-wording that dances and plays and frolics – dancing across my thoughts like a rainbow kite – giddy with delight. I love words. I love language. I love crafting beauty with speech – jeweled moments, pacific feelings, human fragility, and forever promises. For magic unfolds, songs are sung, nobility orates, life tells tales, truth is unveiled, humanity breathes, creation choirs … with let there be! … language.