Show Me

There's one simplle rule that a writer should know, that is when you can tell and when you should show, so armed with this thessis I took up the task of one page of showing, not too much to ask. I searched for examples of showing not telling, checking grammar and context, punctuation and spelling, I tried to describe through the use of each sense to express inner feelings and emotions intense. To walk all alone on a hot summer's day, to inhale the aroma of of newly mown hay, to acknowledge the drift of some hot burning meat as the barbecues sizzle with fare fit to eat. To listen intently for Nature's own words in harmony whispered by streams, trees and birds, the rustle of leaves gently moved by the breeze, the cows in the field at their post-milking ease unaware of their future, what their fate is to be, next year on the barbie to be servrd up for tea? My thoughts turn to town and the crowds and the rush so harshly compared to the idyllic hush, no commuters to fightin the dash for the train, no panic to fight should I miss it again the body in trim trained to push and to shove, but tired, much too tired to make physical love. To make love in the mind, Ah, the pleasure untold kiss goodbye to the mundane, be adventurous and bold in the soft silken sheets of the four-poster bed with butterfly kisses from the toe to the head, lost in a trance in a world of you own all senses reeling, inhibitions all flown. To describe these events when emotions are welling, what happens next? Oh! That would be telling.