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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
Passionate
purple-orange sunsets
gazing into your alluring orbs
Intertwined
limbs sway under moonlight
whispering songs of our endless love
Tenderness
feathery wings of night
together soaring breathtaking heights
Whimsical
nightingales stirring tune
our hearts touching in romantic beats
linking with dVerse - hosted by Laura
writing to the form Parallelogram de Crystalline
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
She danced in a world of dreams seeking adventures in places unknown. Sometimes, she just needed to escape the realities of life. One night feeling heart-broken she wandered in a foggy mist. The eerie silence leading her into the thicker forest of a dream. Up ahead she saw a figure resting on a tree stump.
He held a guitar in his hand softly strumming the blues. Her heart heavy, she too was feeling a loss. In times of crisis to hurt is to steal hope and love. She stood at the crosswalk of change.
She knelt beside him tenderly taking his hand she whispered in his ear “the songs of life will once again play”. They promised to find each other in the morning light. Their lives connected by the stars their wondrous story began. Even, if it was in a dream!
dVerse Prosery Monday
hosted by Lisa
writing up to a 144 word piece of prose
incorporating this line"To hurt is to steal"
from Mysterious Ways by U2
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
Long after a dramatic sunset
restless lying in my bed
tomorrow planned in my head
contemplating the day’s regrets
Tonight, sleep is eluding me
yearning to drift into a dream or two
darkness haunts with thoughts of you
only sunrise will set me free
written for dVerse - the sun'll come up
hosted by Lillian
writing a 44 quadrille - incorporating the word sunrise
Thank you for visiting - insomnia makes for long nights
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
Standing at the crossroad of a dream
sojourning into the darkness alone
searching for signs silver moonbeams
starlight glistens in the vast unknown
thinking about all the places I've been
time seems to disappear into the night
thankful for the gleeful song of the wren
thistles line the cyclic path on the right
here I am, will you walk with me awhile
hoping to find the road to reconciliation
how far must I travel to see your smile
hickory trees have a strong foundation
entering the intersection of here and now
everything changes in a blink of an eye
exhausted resting under willow boughs
emotional I weep, tis love I cannot deny
dVerse hosted by Grace
writing to the Trolaan Form
Thank you for reading - this was a difficult form
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| Separation by Edvard Munch 1896 |
When tomorrow comes
I will wipe these tears of regret
pieces of us are now just crumbs
in love’s symphony one can’t forget
When tomorrow comes
I will stand at the crosswalk of change
inhale the day deeply into my lungs
this melody in my head, I must rearrange
When tomorrow comes
will the songs of us gently fade
composing ballads in a new tongue
for all that was lost, a final serenade
When tomorrow comes
I will wipe these tears of regret
tilt my face toward the rising sun
moving forward, my heart on reset
When tomorrow comes
When tomorrow comes
When tomorrow comes
What's Going On? Hosted by Mary
using a line from "Do You Hear the People Sing"
I have chosen "When tomorrow comes"
Linking with dVerse
Regrets and more....
inspired by the artwork for the prompt
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
This is no time to make things pretty
Yet, we need pretty more than ever
In the rubble of natural disasters
there is a need to find mementos
A family photo, a hidden treasure
something the heart can cling to
After the ominous dark clouds pass
there is beauty in a clear blue sky
This is no time to make things pretty
Yet, we need pretty more than ever
How long can we live in this mess
the beds unmade, the roofless homes
How long can we travel on this earth
with destroyed roads and waterways
Who can repair the damage done
roses are pretty, but the thorns
are a cautious warning....
written for What's Going On?
hosted by Sherry
writing to This is no time to make things pretty
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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
The sounds of spring are quiet
found in unexpected places
in the lily of the valley
where soft white bells
are never heard chiming
The sounds of spring are quiet
under May’s flowering full moon
reflecting on blooms of change
drifting into colorful dreams
linking with dVerse
hosted by Kim
writing a 44 word quadrille incorporating
the word "quiet"