“If winter calls should I answer?” mother had asked.
Her words such as peeled back bark.
Earthy and sublime, a slow pouring wine.
The volume of her sentences were never said…in moderation.
It is four in the morning and I am awoken to hanging on.
What ground had just been broken?
How many more sleepless black and white moments, sullen and justified, would this go on?
Ashen, Irish, ashes all that was left in the morning.
When memories woke up.
Traveling Fashion Designers 🌼
Thoughts-poetry on life, nature and spiritual
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Your thoughts while having coffee
You deserved to feel love that isn't spelled backwards
Aspiring to be the best at writing. Poetry lover, haiku and free verse to be precise, I hope to one day master
Mina upplevelser på de konserter och musikaler jag sett
a written aspirations to inspire.
Frank Regan in words
Just a messenger of the Lord
Pen to paper.
Word-Experimentalist
Running, Writing, Real Life Experiences & Relatable Content.
Rare Poetry and Food stories
Drawing a line through 50
viral quotes and pictures
I read lots of books, from mythology retellings to literary fiction and I love to reread books from childhood, this is a place to voice my thoughts for fun. I also like to ramble about things such as art or nature every now and again.
