She paints her world
According to her pure intention.
Pure in her own figure,
Not in someone else's.
She doesn't speak,
Of words in complex.
Her mouth but translates
Her minds complexity into simplicity.
She doesn't need to speak but rare.
You've read her words,
You've witnessed the paradox
Of her pen-to-paper.
You understand her terminology
Of no bad cause.
She wordlessly preaches her rootless existence
Through the essence of her eyes,
As she hides behind the smoke of her cigarette
Extraordinary, in disguise

Amanda. F (c) 2017

What passes as chaos from dawn till dusk,
Alters into the most fascinating aray of lights at night.
An abundance of lit buildings showcasing a skyline of a once town now a luminescent anomaly.
A neon horizon upon a city of life,
Movement, that never sleeps*

Amanda. F (c) 2017

The angelic silhouette of her intentions on paper,
fair with the golden fingerprints of the depths of her soul
so pure.
Her smile with the potential to light up a thousand dead cities in the blink of an eye,
So allure.
Her eyes play so convincing,
The calm detailed glisten in the sunlight and the sorrowful muted tone they become when her mind is far from bright.
Her idiosyncratic and highly distinctive attitude towards things never fails to amaze me,
Her heart silences her mind when only it feels what her mind can't see.
Rosalie is art
From her knowledge full and constantly absorbing mind, to her utterly beautiful heart.*

Amanda. F (c) 2017

The wind bears with it stories
of faces, bodies, and stillness,
It's graceful yet forceful touch ,
which carries the birds.
surfaces stretching seas,
and sends a breath of life
to the flowers, grass and trees.*

Amanda. F (c) 2017

I feel too much,
I care too much.

I see too much,
I hear too much,

Even a whisper,
is heard loud and clear,

Nothing goes unnoticed,
it feels like a curse - one that I fear.

I sense too much,
I hurt too much,

I cherish joy too much,
I remember too much.

Every word
that was ever said,

Tosses and turns
in my heart
and in my head.

I think too much,
I give too much,

I know too much,
I grow too much.

I evaluate my insecurities
everyday,

I punish myself
for turning out this way.

I never ask for much
I never take too much,

I never want too much,
my only real problem is ...
that I love--way, way too much.

~ I'm sorry.

By Lady R.F ©2017

Little by little,
Bit by bit,

Page by page,
My blood
I drip.

Scattered fragments
Of my soul
I leave behind,

In hope that one day
You may find...

Me - Completely.

Little by little,
Day by day,

Everlasting,
My chosen words
Will stay.

Verse by verse,
My soul
On earth
Will linger - Immortal,
Undying,

Traceable footsteps,
On these pages,
I leave -
Tears in words;
My pen is always crying.

My soul
Longs to bleed
Blood and tears of ink,

Between the lines
You will find me;
I have left trails -
A direct link.

By Lady R.F ©2016

Gazing up at the smorgasbord of stars
makes me all the more fonder
of the darkness,

Connecting light dots
above my head
on a magical canvas
which is never, ever, artless.

Vivid images
constantly taking form,
impeccable masterpieces floating
way up above me,

Heaven's art gallery
with such divine work on show;
hung--for all of us to see.

By Lady R.F ©2017