Thy love gives me voice.
Between the lines I scribble,
I yearn, surrender.
My quill yields, ingeminate,
I paint my paper with you.
Between the lines I scribble,
I yearn, surrender.
My quill yields, ingeminate,
I paint my paper with you.
A welcome glint
In moments of stillness, when the chaos quiets and nature reveals its gentle truths, even a fleeting beam of sunlight becomes a messenger of...
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The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
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It was her umpteenth shift in that cramped bus on a Monday morning. She had hoped to avoid the digging arms and elbows. But to no avail. ...
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“ Chubby cheeks, dimple chin, Rosy lips, teeth within, Curly hair, very fair, Eyes are blue, lovely too. Daddy’s pet, is that you? ” ...
Thank you.
ReplyDeleteVery nice !
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Gattina
DeleteAh, to feel that passion and strength.
ReplyDeleteThe View from the Top of the Ladder
Would be a blessing, I guess.
DeleteI always enjoy your poetry!
ReplyDeleteAnd I always enjoy hearing from you.
DeleteThank you Sarah for such sweet compliments.
I have done that, and it fills me with such joy and peace. What a wonderful post!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Judie. It is good to hear that you could relate so well.
Delete