I put my earrings on . . . she couldn’t wear them . . . said her religion forbid it . . . when we were kids . . . on summer nights . . . we chased fireflies . . . she tore off their butts . . . and glowing earrings .… Read More Forbidden by Religion
some mornings . . . there are mountains to climb . . . sometimes . . . there are ditches to dig . . . or jungles to cut through . . . ~0~ tired, exhausted . . . no, it’s fatigue . . . yes, that’s the word . . . ~0~ the… Read More Lupus Battle
This poem was inspired by this beautiful rose That Montreal Girl captured. Go check it out it will take your breath away. All the wonder before me the beauty that intrigues the fresh scent of summer the gentle showers hide my lonely tears. © Kimberly Wilhelmina Floria 6/14/14
I wrote for today’s prompt on my tablet. I’ve been trying to link it to blogging 201 but I don’t know how to. Memory on the Menu Which good memories are better — the recent and vivid ones, or those that time has covered in a sweet haze? How can one evaluate memories?… Read More Remember When – Memory on the Menu
dreams that hide in the darkness of mind evaporate like puddles on hot summer days exposed in unusual ways a knowing wink teases the brain with miniscule moments of thoughts obscure clarity birthing spirits born of mystery haunting ghost pulling not forward, back unnaturally tangling knots of confusion anxiety feeding on the pound muscle pumping… Read More is this
silentlyheardonce 