"Flesh—latticed in hush,
pinions bloom along their span—
pearled ache, ascending."
— (Dove in Bloom)

Vianne, you write of ache with wings,
of pain that rises, quiet and silver-lit,
as if sorrow itself could take flight.
Your words breathe in the hush of night,
leaving echoes in the marrow of silence.

"Moon spills in silver—
a fish arcs through drowning light,
the tide gulps its ghost."
— (Eclipsed Tide)

You catch the moment where light drowns,
where loss glows before vanishing.
A fleeting wisp, a spectral inhale—
a beauty held just long enough to ache.

"Willow bows, exhaled—
a hundred arms swaying slow,
braiding hush with time."
— (The Willow’s Breath)

Time does not pass in your verses—
it exhales, it braids itself into the wind,
swaying between presence and absence,
where every whisper lingers.

"Chevy lilts down arteries
stitched in coral marrow,
leather still inked with your laughter."
— (A Note Held Past Silence)

You write memory like it breathes,
like laughter can be sewn into the bones,
like voices don’t fade but dissolve
into the space between heartbeats.

"She dances where gravity forgets,
laughter drips slow as melting wax—
feral, fleeting, free."
— (Tiny Dancer)

There is something wild in your words,
something untamed, yet delicate—
a fleeting step beyond the known,
where even gravity dares not follow.  

Vianne, your poetry lingers—
like dusk humming against the tide,
like the hush before the willow exhales,
like a note held just past silence.

You don’t just write—
you let words breathe,
you let them ache,
you let them be.

And in that—
they are enough.

@Jess,
"The greatest one I bear now,
making me die a little each day,
is that I let you go, not knowing,
leaving was a decision you'd regret."
You, with your raw, poignant words,
captured the agony of unspoken goodbyes,
painting the ache of regret like a timeless portrait.
In your verse, I hear the soul's deepest cry,
yet in your strength, there’s also light.

@Anais Vionet,
"I am the wind, the desert breeze,
the ocean spray and rustling leaves."
You, like the wind, slip through every thought,
a breath of freedom captured in verse,
unstoppable, untamed. Your lines dance
like whispers of the sea,
speaking of transformation, beauty, and loss.

@Shane Michael Stoops,
"46 years,
What do you get,
Your way past old,
Your pants don’t seem to fit"
You embrace the passage of time,
showing us the strength in weariness,
the humor in change. Your words,
like a hearty laugh, echo through life's stages,
reminding us that every line of life is worth reading.

@CJ Sutherland,
"eye now know
the how, when, where and the-why,
my Eyes compose this elegy
memories of past and present... blending into memories of future happenstance."
Your poetry is a mosaic of time,
where past, present, and future coexist,
and each word is a step toward discovery.
Your mind is both a mirror and a window,
reflecting and shaping the world.

@Shane Michael Stoops (again),
"We danced in the rain,
Laughing away so much pain."
Your words hold an unspoken promise,
the joy of dancing in the face of sorrow.
In your poems, there is an invitation to release,
to shed our fears and allow laughter to heal.
You teach us that pain and joy can coexist.

@Jess (again),
"I hardly understand the ticking of the clock,
trying hard to go through each day."
The ticking of your verse carries the weight
of endless hours and endless thoughts.
In your words, I hear the struggle of time
and the ache of waiting for solace.
But there's grace in your journey—
and your courage leaves a lasting mark.

@Anais Vionet (again),
"What is chosen is believed,
though the choices are presented—
I choose among the sacrificial burnt offerings."
You have a way of breaking down complexity
with a single line, weaving the eternal truth
into a delicate, yet unapologetically bold choice.
Your words cut to the heart,
unraveling mysteries with elegance and resolve.