One second, people look no different from other people and are no better than anybody else ~*~ vexed, Two eyes look down in sorrow, because people give nothing only stand away and disappear before your eyes out of sight ~*~ for words cover eyes that she knew when she had had enough and disapeared Disclaimer:… Continue reading Vanishing Act
She was in love with every day and her time was well wished ~*~ Disclaimer: No books were harmed in the making of this poem. Book used: The Fairy Book by Dinah Maria Mulock
The Sea had great stories Old stories without end and these tales swallowed thought Disclaimer: No book was harmed in the making of this poem Book used: The Fairy Book, by Dinah Maria Mulock
Eyes see not the beautiful speech, but the evening moon from under orange blossoms, deer running, breathless and weary, and the magnificence of adventure. Disclaimer: No books were harmed in the making of this poem.
The children more than ten years old spoke sense but thought every wrong was rain Book Used: The Fairy Book, by Dinah Maria Mulock DISCLAIMER: No books were harmed in the making of this poem!
Once, there was joy. There were good fairies, magnificent and pure. But alas! The king had not much desire for fairies. Book used: The Fairy Book by Dinah Maria Mullock DISCLAIMER: No books were harmed in the making of this poem!
I will quench the wonder of your body to live, perhaps, awhile longer. I desire you I do it freely Believe me I do love Is that strange? to say I loved? I lie not, I swear, I love you, with no protest. Trying my hand at black-out poetry with my favorite Shakespeare play, what… Continue reading Much Ado About Love
It's The Longest Night Watch. I am Bearly Awake. I have a Dream Stalker, or maybe an Angel in Training. It's a Foxes Love, but still Love Claimed. Our Hearts of Jade are Chasing Rabbits into a Night Circus run by a Pirate Princess. Grave Measures are taken So the Heart Can Dance. Perhaps, I… Continue reading November
My voice is meek And floats in air I have more That I can share I can read and I can sing But in the end That means nothing I can hand a book to you of my poetry and drawings too But in the end It’s nothing new And in the end My words… Continue reading It’s Not My Words
We all have them. Weather etched on skin or engraved on hearts. We’ve all felt like falling apart. Look into my eyes, what do you see? Is it just color or do you see me? Now look even closer, is there a soul? Do you see a poser? Or just a broken tool? I’m… Continue reading Scars