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I can fathom no way to begin to write this other than sad. Ray Bradbury not only tops my list of favorite authors, echoes of his style trickle through my own words. Not that I copied him. I would never dare. His influence on me from my early voracious reading days permeates much of my thought and much of my emotional make up.

Bradbury lent me a burning love for science fiction – science fiction whose characters felt real, believable and interesting. His descriptive style of writing tickled shades of poetic flavors. He always brought the reality of setting and circumstance to the reader. He invited us in to revel in his imagination. I never knew disappointment in his delivery.

My other favorite sci-fi writers, Robert A. Heinlein and Isaac Asimov, helped round out my science fiction reading, but Bradbury led me into the world of fiction as a whole. Bradbury resonates in my heart, in my soul, and in my own writing. Anyone not acquainted with this man’s writing misses out on a master at his craft. As I wrote on my Hub Pages article, I aspire to reach his level of writing. I may never get there, but the journey defines the point.

 

Write in Peace

Heroes die, leaving hollow heart holes
Their deeds done and admired.
Writers craft legacies and dreams
Their deeds done and admired.

Sadness pervades thought and soul
Books now home to the Master
Revel in the words left behind
Books now home to the Master.

Life devolving into technological chaos
His words reveal many truths
Embrace the stories that painted a thousand pictures
His words reveal many truths.

For most of my reading life
Bradbury sang my body electric
I cherish his talent, his life view, his strength
Write in peace, Ray, write in peace…

Poetry in Black and White

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