Phantasmal clouds wreathe the hills-- the sea, rough with foam breaking; seagulls encourage one another. From that dreamy mess she emerges: Poem of mine, you taste salty on my lips.…
Thank you for not making me go the distance alone. May I still be here tomorrow and the next day and the next to see this through. The WordPress Writing Community is the best. You are part of a new thread in my story and I will not forget.
Once there was a girl... She is pacing the floor now, waiting for the book to be born. Thank you, all. xoxo
Hey, friends. We're on the last week of the first half of the year. Wow! Here's an encouragement poem to help you recalibrate on your You-ness--feeling whole and worthy of all that is to come in the second half of the year.
The little girl went through the motions of preparing and pouring the steaming hot-tea into dainty cups that sat atop matching saucers, she sweetened with condensed milk, and began a conversation with her dolls. (also, self-promo)
Do you like haiku? Hope you like mine... I know not which flower perfumes the night-- my water is sweet.
My Amazon review of Waking Up To Thrutopia: poems and essays by Conny Borgelioen. I found the work, and not to mention the cover, to be a fulfilling and enlightening collection. Please consider adding this book to your collection.
"No one who achieves success does so without the help of others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude." ~ Alfred North Whitehead. Thanks for reading. xoxo
Cloud nine. A haze of worry. Jello Legs. Hold my hand. I want the magic!
Ripped from the insides of a meaty cocoon, the little seed was swept up by a winged-creature. She slid down a chute, landed squarely in a dark place, where the air was like nothing she knew. So begins the story of a little seed...
I would be ever so grateful for any kind of support you may lend me as I follow in the shadows of those who have traveled this road before me. Thanks beforehand.