Whispering Thoughts

We met. Through, The not so perfect crusts, The alluring imperfections, And, we are friends now. Bonded at the mantle. Digging for the core. We ... Maybe someday. Till then, Counting blessings Found together. Linking with Trifextra : Week Forty-Nine

Around New Year’s time, And you want a resolution. One look At that overflowing closet; Those sweaters and jackets; Those heaps of clothing. I know, I know. I have thought it over. No more shopping for me. Strictly. I just walked into the “Fashion Mall”. And oh! That jacket looks so good! Is my resolve weakening already? Linking up with Saturday Centus - You want a resolution Linking up with Ketchup With us #9 - In 57 words or less, tell us the New Year's resolution you want to make but know you'll break.

She sat there, Always waiting, Wondering, And gazing At the emptiness. And it did not matter If it rained or snowed; All she ever saw was His blood smeared hand Waving out to her, And all she ever heard was Her name, faint Midst the loud report of the pistol.  The redhead lived With the trail of red blood Ever since that day. The past pending, In every fiber of her being, Her only wish To lose herself One more time, In his loving embrace. She lived on, with her love Dancing in the shadows Of that evening autumn fire. Linking with Write on Edge : Write at the merge - Week 1 Linking with Velvet Verbosity : 100 words - Redhead

Those stunning sunrises, the perfect wake up calls. The chirping birds, a song on their lips. The lingering echoes of a cuckoo’s call, That behold and then, melt the hearts. The fragrant flowers, Their incense wide and far. And the little shards, those thorns that guard, These priceless works of art. The bees that buzz, busy in their fuss, Not a moment to spare, to stand and stare. The endless patience in the hearth, To stay, to survive – to be like The Mother Earth. The great blue expanse overhead, Vast and immense, its arms widespread. The golden flames that light the path, The lamps that are lit to fight the dark. The winding rivers, ever moving forth, Finding way, cutting through rocks. The twirling autumn heralding the springs, From the rusted leaves to the green beginnings. The little moon not to be cast aside, Growing and dying - the bitter truth of life. For the victory visits the hearts th...