Her way to stay sane. Her way to become mad. Her way to inspire. Her way to remove the plain. She is the seductive curve posing in a devil's empowering dress. The manners of a full-lipped villain. When she dips on bent knee, to confess. Whilst dangling on the threads of word. She brushes my … Continue reading What She Means to Confess
Had I been born an article of sale clothing...'straight' off the rack. A bit long in the sleeve. Slightly bulky. Too athletic looking. Would I make it fit? Had I been in mind...as an abused, handed down... 'good news' bible. Splayed on open pages. Scribbled in ink. Someone's ideals of what is right or wrong. … Continue reading Matron Cows and Silly Sows
Everyday I walk. I am reborn. No need for brick and mortar edifices, to place scorn. No awaiting others to blaze a path. To begin thoughtful salvation. It is only my shadow I must cast.
It is not the colorful display of flowers that enlists me. Though the warmth they bring. I await eagerly. The majesty of a tree...I could ponder, again and again. Its weight. Its shelter. Its ability to defend. There is truth to the pine, the ash, the birch. An honesty to being fastened to the earth. … Continue reading Fastened to the Earth
Apple tree at recess. Who could ask for more? Charging to the front of a memorable mind. Flashes of after clashes. And, what has come before. A bit of history to endorse nature's tranquility.