Impossible to outrun
You catch me
Cover me wet
Leaving me liquescent
Never to be outdone
Tag Archives: Writers
Tell Me About Love
Stepping away from the fight,
Only one need, for tonight,
Tell me about love.
Remind me that it lives,
And thrives among,
Moments we’re intolerant of.
Honestly, I’m needing to hear,
Sounds that bring back familiar,
Like the moaning of a guitar,
As long fingers slide through.
Explaining where I’ve left my heart,
And why it should belong to you.
Allow my strength to weaken,
I’ll listen for that voice I know,
One encouraging me to escape,
Whispering me towards a window.
Write of a passionate world where,
Someone chooses to wear a cape.
Paint pictures of your love among,
Flowers, hearts and shadows,
Even a dragon with a red tongue.
Warm me with your skillful hands,
Explore, as only an artist does,
My freckled skin, your nightly canvas.
Waiting
Autumn Springs – Final Verse
Autumn Springs from Summer’s Flame,
Eternal Passage of Season’s Change,
Dance of Passion’s Lingering Game,
Viridian for Copper, Elemental Exchange.
Primordial instincts embrace epic hues,
Fantasy’s Utopia, view Wisps becoming Brides,
Delphian Fairwell Fairies mimic and muse,
Rousing Shadows and Lovers, crimsons collide.
Pageant of Nighttide, Shimmering Bright,
Secrets Whispered in Primeval Tones,
Gathering Luminous, Spectral Light,
Ethereal Queen Born from muttering crone.
Dauntless Coppice, pursuing nature’s virgin Sprite,
Baptized, Nocturnal King of Twilight’s Beasts,
Queen Dowager awaits Autumn’s marital rites,
Mystic humming, via Motley winds due East.
Dance upon the Darling Midnight,
Twirl amidst the Foliage Aflame,
King and Queen Bedecked in Mirth’s Light,
Escaping Summer’s Clasp, Ne’er to be the Same.
Brilliance sparkling over Celestial skies
Approval granted, Russet Harvest’s grace
Verdict trumpeted, Change of Seasons, shall advise
Regal first kiss, as accompanying Timbers embrace
Spectrum’s Flame of Autumnal Dawn,
Seasons Shift, like Willows Bend,
Dancing Tatiana and Bold Oberon,
In Sweetest Union without End.
Fate’s Tale whirls on Heliotrope dreams,
Epic dance, adorning Violaceous Wings,
Crisp winds commence, Folklore sings,
Fantasy lives within Autumn Springs.
*****
This is the final verse, inspired by Morgan’s seventh verse in a week long Autumn, Halloween, seasonal change, Mystical, light and dark collaboration with Morgan, from http://booknvolume.com/ .
I do hope you enjoyed Autumn Springs, my friends. I was honored when Morgan asked me to consider collaborating with her. Morgan’s extremely talented and it has been my privilege to write with her. I’ve grown as a poet and tried a theme I hadn’t considered previously. A huge thank you to Morgan for her patience, as well, as I tried keeping up with her enormous talent. Another bonus was getting to know a remarkable woman, a little bit better, over the last week.
I hope, if you hadn’t been following Morgan’s work, that you have decided to follow her poetry now. Become lost in her world of fantasy. I know I do. Love and many hugs, dear Morgan. You’re the best! Thanks again for for a fantastic week of writing.
*Original Artwork:
Top photo by: Lilla Marton
Bottom photo by: Josephine Wall *
Next Time
Simple poetry,
My prayer, floating free,
Shall work harder,
And stand well enough,
In hopes,
To receive you,
Next time…
A huge thank you to my blogging loyals today, yesterday and tomorrow. Y’all truly make my day with your consistent support. I couldn’t write poetry without you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
I appreciate your understanding, if you haven’t seen me around your blog. Life has been a bit out of sorts. Look for me soon. I love y’all!
Work Place Blog Hop
I’ve been asked to participate in a work place blog hop by our friend, John W. Howell. I know many of you already know him and find as much delight in his creative ways as I do. Have you purchased Johnny’s novel My GRL yet? You should, if you’re a crime fiction fan of any sort. He’s on my TBR list, but I fear he’s beginning to question the truth behind that admission. I adore his short stories and weekly haiku, as well. He has the best sense of humor and often brightens my day so stop by and say hi, if you can. This hop was created to showcase a writer’s writing space. You can read his post here.
Please excuse the photos, I couldn’t be bothered waiting for the sun to go down. I don’t want to keep John waiting any longer. I’ve missed out on a lot being gone a few days. Thanks for asking me to add my space and for being patient with me, John.
Welcome to my work space:
My desk is found in the corner of two white walls, as white calms my thoughts. Everywhere else, I have loads of color, believe it or not. Do you see my gorgeous brown Gnome with red sunglasses and orange cone hat? He’s been through a lot, but still keeps me company. I’m pretty sure he used to play a lot of jazz. Bass, hopefully. My Kansas State University mug reminds me that I once partied, a lot. A mirror to remind me that I’m not perfect. For me, headphones are a must, as some of you already know. This apple computer station keeps my music running, internet feeding and allows for a large screen on days when I need to properly watch a blog video, like Duke’s weekly Ripping Movie Reviews.
This is the corner behind the desk. When I can, I love to keep the blinds and windows open for clean air and light, but it didn’t work when I tried to take a picture earlier. Apparently, there’s too much light to be had during the afternoon at this angle. Anyway, this is the growing station for two of my most beloved plants. The bigger lily is named Dotzie and the smaller one, Maxine. Dotzie is ten years old. Maxine is twenty-two years old. They were both given in condolence when grandmothers passed away. I keep them close, and only speak to them when I’m cleaning their leaves. They don’t mind being named after dead grandmothers. Both have been near death a few times, but somehow keep coming back. I was given Maxine at an age when nothing should have stayed alive in my care. Somehow, we both survived high school and then college.
This is how my space looks most of the time. Well, when I have an opportunity to take over the space and stay awhile, that is. My phone, laptop, and Apple computer are all plugged in and being used in some fashion while in writing heaven. Okay, so a few more papers are generally being tossed around, but I tried to tidy up a bit.
In all honesty, when I’m posting a poem, this is what I’m looking at, if my poem is written in the morning. I have some time to listen to music while driving to work, then I take a moment to clear my thoughts before starting my day, which then produces a poem. Staring at this steering wheel might be a source of inspiration, but my guess is that the car’s seat holds me just right. Nothing better than being held just right, you know.
During the school year I become super busy and miss a lot of opportunities to write at a normal desk. I’m often running from place to place, and usually arrive early, which allows for some typing on my Samsung Note while waiting in the car. I do my best to get my writing in every day, even if that means sitting in my car in a parking lot. Teachers wear many hats.
It’s a perfect day when I can write outside and enjoy a finishing view like this one.
Now for my, as John says, Tagees:
Morgan (Who, I know is currently on leave, but couldn’t leave her out ♡♡ Keeping she and her family in prayer.)
Guarding
Somewhere In Between
Divided by who she is and must be,
Complicated beauty, spinning.
Broken trust, yet willing to thrive,
Found from somewhere deep inside.
Torn between suffocating her color,
And accepting that which brings her life.
A painted essence you can see,
One she’ll deny continously.
You’ll want to rescue her, catch her,
Have the hand she leans towards first.
Know she’s twirling effortlessly,
Used to living sublimely,
Dedicated to using what’s hers,
Independence, her curse.
Lustrous Muse
My Fear
Before heavy eyes conquer this lady
I humbly confess to remembering
Vivid pictures of our beginning
Slowly teetering on becoming
Time that never was or isn’t
Proving that we don’t exist
My mind, that of a dreamer
Summer Breeze
Wildest Dreams
Cover Me
Blushing Petals
Simmer
Indigo Dawn
Wrapped calmly inside
This early summer breeze
You breathe deep sweltering air
Anticipating, Indigo Dawn
You arrive for her awakening
Her essence, born crystal clear
Cloudy wisps of her true devotion
Indigo Dawn, wakes beside her ocean
Discovering her weak heart still resides
Writing prompt, Indigo Dawn, provided by Richard. Adored, by many.
Curling Fragments
Lava Sunset
Exquisite Moment
Our distance disguised as intriguing
Whispers to me of fate’s cruelties
What will come of this meeting
Overwhelmed with curiosity
Wherever you are tonight
I wish to be there, too
Lost in exquisite surroundings
Stopping to admire this powerful view
An alluring disaster such as this
Can easily be related to, understood
Fate’s sensual act unfolding before me
Rain tending to the sun beautifully
Through soft, yet dark, cloud pillows
Curtains of rain will wash the sun
Sun submitting to the rain’s shower
A risk, plentiful if carefully tended to
This moment locked sublimely away
Will include wishing thoughts of you