A poet knows of empty words And of those that seem to hold The entire essence of life's existence. Idle, and frenetic pace, A numb heart, and manic mind, Pages of fragmented thoughts And the dreaded blank page, Flat lined - dead. The panic of being abandoned, Even at the risk of buckling under The weight of human angst. A poet knows, all too well, the Controlled chaos of a trembling hand, When words hide behind a veil Of ambivalence, and leave us To drown in the deserts and oceans Of our own voices.
On the wind of dreams, Through skies of blue, And overcast by storms, Hopes dashed, strewn About the callous earth. Cries in the night, Lyrics of unspeakable grief. Notes and letters of love, Affirmations, secrets, Poetries on parchment, inked. Seeds, planted in the Fertile minds of children, Words of comfort, In the heart of a friend...
Every day, Our memoirs are written On the pages of time.
Silky maiden of a millennia, Gilded tresses trailing kisses on her back, Embellished with lilac elegancy, Diamond orbs embedded in the oval visage, That reflect cerulean nobility, Shimmering with sequins of love, Smile that of bright incandescence, Often voiced as sunshine smile, Beautifies the scars with her affection, Tempest enshrouded with zephyr, An enshrine of amiability, Phlegmatic blows of imperial warmth, Sweeps away the dolour, O' darling! She's a bombshell, With myriad shades of muses!
This is my submission for the image prompt challenge I'm currently hosting on @carolyns_challenges (feel free to participate). It features the beautiful artwork of Layla Nowras. Thank you for reading!
P.S. Due to hosting the challenges, I'm way behind with comments and reposts on this account. I will remedy that as soon as I'm able, and thank you for your patience and understanding in the meantime. ♥️
There is no deeper bond than between you and your siblings When multiples are born, they find it hard to be apart, sharing their feelings Flip, Trip, Glo, & Flo, are thick as thieves Never far apart as they hide behind the leaves Glo is shy, but loves to pull pranks, she was born first, oldest in the ranks Flo likes to whistle, but she doesn't do it well So Flip whistles for her and doesn't ever tell Flip is the fixer, he keeps order and peace Trip is the wild child, his follies to release The four fly together, in a tight little pack, and anywhere they go, they have each others back Together, they make up a very friendly bunch The Feathered Foursome birdlings, are quite the fun, I have a hunch