Come, love, where foam wears a crown made of starlight,
where the sea hums a melody spun out of dreams.
The moon waltzes barefoot on tides ever restless,
and the wind whispers secrets it stole from the streams.

I have spun you a song from the breath of the ocean,
stitched it with pearls and the hush of the deep.
The dolphins have danced to the notes of my longing,
the jellyfish glimmer where my sorrows sleep.

I twine through the currents, I weave through the breakers,
a ribbon of longing, a whisper, a wraith.
I sing to the ghosts of lost sailors and lovers,
who answered my call with the hush of their faith.

They answered with sighs as they slipped beneath moonlight,
with hands outstretched to a promise unknown.
They followed the song like a tide-pulled surrender,
hearts spilling their echoes to waters below.

Still, there you stand, where the land meets the never,
feet traced by the waves, yet tangled in sand.
Oh, foolish beloved, the stars know far better;
you were never meant to be bound to the known.

Come tumble, come twirl, come be wild in the water!
Laugh as the minnows slip soft through your hands.
Let go of the weight that the earth placed upon you,
and waltz where the sea writes its love in the sands.

Love is not tethered, nor meant to be quiet,
It leaps like the tide and it sings like the foam!
So dance my beloved, where magic is boundless;
Where shipwrecks are cradled and sirens call home.

For love is not living when love is in waiting,
when longing outlasts even time’s cruel design.
And if you won’t have me in flesh or in waking,
then drown here in dreams…forever in mine.

In the shadows where the whispers dwell,  
Where doubt entwines like a heavy spell,  
I stand, unraveled by the storm's fierce hand,  
Yet in this chaos, I find where I stand.

The weight of loathing may cloud my sight,  
But even in darkness, I stretch toward the light.  
For every stumble, every tear that falls,  
Is a step toward glory, a rise from the falls.

With trembling voice, I reclaim my fate,  
Each scar tells a story, each wound can create  
A tapestry woven with courage and grace,  
A dance of resilience in this fervent space.

Let the tempest rage, let the winds blow strong,  
For power resides in knowing where I belong.  
I am the storm and the calm that it brings,  
A symphony of struggle, flying on bold wings.

I gather the pieces …both bruised and worn,  
In the heart of my battles, a new self is born.  
With each breath, I conquer the mountains of doubt,  
For within me lies strength that will never run out.

Oh, let the world tremble, let it oft misjudge,  
In the face of my trials, I refuse to begrudge.  
For beneath every burden, beneath every scar,  
Lies the truth of my spirit …a luminous star.

So here I rise, a phoenix in flight,  
A testament woven of shadows and light.  
For though the path twists and the nights feel long,  
I am woven of courage, I am woven of song.

In the quiet sky, as the day starts to fade,
The sun and the moon meet in a soft serenade.
The sun, with its warmth, a golden embrace,
Whispers goodbye with a tender grace.

The moon, in its glow, so gentle and bright,
Turns to the sun with a love full of light.
Their dance is a secret, a soft, silent song,
Two souls in the sky, where they've danced all along.

The sun, with a smile, begins to descend,
Leaving the sky as the daylight ends.
The moon stays behind, a lone heart in the blue,
Two souls now apart, but their love still true.

And then, like a laugh in the hush of a dream,
The stars start to twinkle, a sparkling stream.
They dance in the dark with a playful delight,
Stealing the moment and stealing the night.

"Forgive us," they giggle, as they twirl through the air,
Brushing the sky with their glow everywhere.
And the stars, with a song, begin to sing,
A melody soft, on a celestial wing.

For the love of the sun, and the moon so bright,
They serenade the sky through the quiet night.
Though the sun is gone, the moon still knows,
In the stars' gentle dance, love quietly grows.

In the quiet, where words should land,
There’s only the echo of my trembling hand.
A heart once fierce, now a stone in my chest,
Fighting a battle that won't let me rest.

Once, there was hope in the space we shared,
But the walls have closed in, and no one’s there.
Respect, like sunlight, is slow to fade,
Yet I stand in shadows, feeling betrayed.

I’ve given it all, and it’s never enough,
The silence thickens, the road’s grown rough.
I ask for one thing to keep me alive;
But respect is a gift I can’t derive.

I am more than a fight, more than a plea,
But the weight I carry is crushing me.
I want to rise, to shatter the chain,
But the world holds me in an endless refrain.

Still, I am the lion, I am the flame,
Though the path is uncertain, I’ll rise just the same.
For even in silence, even in pain,
I am still here, and I’ll rise again.

I will rise, not for them, but for me.
I will rise, and let the world see.

I saw the look when you walked in the room,
A glance that whispered judgment, sealed in gloom.
You didn’t know the struggles I face each day,
The battles unseen that shape me this way.

I pretended not to hear the words that stung,
The whispers that echoed, too harshly unsung.
But inside, the silence screamed, raw and deep,
A wound too tender for anyone to keep.

You don’t know the reasons that lie beneath,
The parts of me hidden, beyond your belief.
But still, you speak as though you can see,
The things I carry, so deep within me.

I hear your whispers, your blame, your doubt,
You think I don’t understand, but I’m here, no doubt.
I’m not stupid, not broken, not less.
I’m just a soul trying to find my own peace.

And still, you should love me, you should see,
That who I am is a part of me.
I long for your kindness, your heart to be kind,
But it feels like love’s something you’ve left behind.

I carry this hurt, but I wear it in grace,
Hoping one day, you’ll see my true face.
Until then, I’ll hold on, I’ll try to be strong,
Even when I feel like I don’t belong.

But know this, deep down, beyond all the pain,
My love for you will always remain.
No matter the silence, the distance, the strife,
I’ll love you forever, all through my life.

In the stillness of a misty morning,
The sea whispers its secrets,
The horizon softened by gray,
Like the world is holding its breath.

We walk, side by side,
Not in a hurry,
Just moving with the rhythm of the waves,
Our footsteps sinking into the cool sand,
Echoes of longing and love filling the space between us.

I don’t speak...
There’s no need for words.
The air is thick with anticipation,
The mist wraps us in its quiet embrace,
And all around us, time slows,
As if the world knows this moment is precious.

We wait.
Not for something to come,
But for everything to settle into place...
The softness of your hand near mine,
The shared silence that speaks louder than words,
The tender longing that feels like it’s been here forever,
Waiting to be understood.

And the love,
A pulse beneath the sound of the sea,
Constant, steady,
Unspoken, but known.

In this mist,
In this quiet space between us,
There is everything we need.
No need for more,
Just the sea, the fog,
And the soft, tender feeling
Of being here, together.

The sun spills gold in fragile streams,
a fleeting touch, a sigh between;
where time unravels, slow and thin,
like an ancient spell whispered on the wind.

The dawn awakes with silver hands,
to trace lost love upon the land.
A mist, a ghost, a breath, a plea;
a world once whole, now memory.

The rivers hum in voices old,
secrets spun in liquid gold.
Their song still lingers, soft and low,
a tale of things we’ll never know.

The trees, they reach, they ache, they yearn,
for fires gone cold, for stars that burn.
Their roots entwine the bones of time,
each ring a loss, each leaf a rhyme.

The flowers bloom, then fade, then fall,
as if they never lived at all.
Yet in their scent, a love remains;
a whispered name, a fleeting flame.

The mountains stand, but in their stone,
are echoes carved of those long gone.
Their peaks still call to those below,
a song of longing, laced with woe.

The ocean sings in sorrowed waves,
it cradles what it could not save.
Each crest, a prayer; each fall, a cry;
a heart too vast to say goodbye.

And when the dusk drapes earth in blue,
the stars blink out, as lost things do.
For magic lingers, wild and thin,
like an ancient spell whispered on the wind.

Ocean whispers, sandy gleam,  
Waves that dance in sunlight's beam.  
Seashells scatter, tides that play,  
Whimsy carried in the spray.
  
Gentle breezes, soft and light,  
Kissing shores with pure delight.  
Children’s laughter, joyously found,  
Echoes where the sea meets ground.  

Crimson sun begins to wane,  
Golden hues on rippling gain.  
Footprints traced in the warm, fine sand,  
Memories etched by nature's hand.  

Curly waves in frothy white,  
Embrace the dusk, surrendering night.  
Stars awaken, shimmering bright,  
Mirrored in the ocean’s sight.  

Moonlit paths on water's face,  
A secret dance, a timeless grace.  
Whales call softly from afar,  
Carrying tales of where they are.  

Seabirds wheel in evening's hush,  
Wings outstretched in silent rush.  
The ocean’s heart, a lullaby,  
Sings of dreams beneath the sky.  

So here, beside this endless blue,  
We find our peace, our spirits renew.  
For in the tide’s eternal sway,  
Life’s simple wonders find their way.

Can you see what I see?
A world brimming with hope and beauty,
Where every leaf, every branch, every tree,
Whispers the life it holds so deeply.

Can you hear the quiet breath of the Earth,
A rhythm pulsing from the soil’s heart,
The soul of every stone and pebble,
Woven together in a tapestry of art.

Can you feel the heartbeat of the land,
A sacred pulse beneath your feet,
A song of life so vast, so grand,
Echoing softly, ever sweet.

Alive in every moment, every breeze,
A symphony of life that weaves,
A boundless wonder, a timeless dream.
I can.
And it’s beautiful...

PART ONE:  THE UNBOUND GLORY OF HER HEART

Wild, untamed, and free she stands,
a tempest woven in golden strands.
The wind does not break but bows to her will,
as mountains whisper and rivers thrill.

She is the song of the open sky,
a fire that flickers but does not die.
No chain nor tether, no whispered plea
could bind the soul of one born to be free.

She loves like thunder, fierce and bright,
burning through sorrow, kissing the night.
Her laughter echoes where wild things run,
dancing with shadows, chasing the sun.

And though the world may beg her to stay,
to soften, to quiet, to turn away,
she will rise like dawn on the endless sea;
unbound, in the glory of all she can be.

PART TWO:  THE RECKLESS STORM OF HER SOUL

She runs with the wild, a reckless storm,
lightning in laughter, thunder in form.
No map, no master, no path made straight,
only the pull of an untamed fate.

She tastes the rain like a lover’s kiss,
spins with the wind, knows only this:
that life is fleeting, fierce, and bright,
meant to be lived, not caged in fright.

Yet love is a thread that tugs and twines,
soft as moonlight, strong as vines.
Will she yield? Will she stay?
Or will she vanish with the break of day?

PART THREE:  GENTLE RECKONING OF HER FIRE

She is the wildfire, the rolling tide,
but even storms have a place to hide.
A heart so free must also rest,
to find the ones who love it best.

Not bound in chains, nor clipped, nor tame,
but seen, embraced, called by name.
For freedom is not just the road unknown;
it’s choosing where the soul feels home.

So she stands, the wind still sings,
but now it knows...she has found her wings.

PART FOUR: THE ETERNAL ECHO OF HER SPIRIT

She has run with the wind, burned with the stars,
danced in the dark, healed in her scars.
She has tasted the edge of all that could be,
and now she stands, both fierce and free.

Not every journey is meant to roam,
sometimes the wild must build its home.
Not in stillness, nor in chains,
but where love and freedom share their names.

She is not tamed, she is not bound,
yet in love’s arms, she has been found.
For to be free is not to flee,
but to choose, with joy, where she will be.

I know the storm you're facing now,
Feels like it’s too much to allow,
But in this darkness, there’s a truth,
That strength is born from what you go through.

Though doubt may cloud your every thought,
And you may feel like you're distraught,
Remember, even in the night,
The dawn is waiting, full of light.

Your worth is not in struggle’s grasp,
It's in the quiet strength you clasp.
Though dreams may seem so far away,
They’re closer than you think today.

One step, one breath, one day at a time,
You’ll find your rhythm, you’ll find your climb.
And though the road feels hard to see,
You're stronger than you think to be.

In time, you’ll look back on this fight,
And see how you emerged from night.
The storm will pass, the sun will shine,
And you will find your peace, in time.

I stand upon the precipice,
gazing back at a dream.
A thread once loose and wandering,
now woven into a seam.

A tapestry of longing,
stitched with hope and fear,
each moment spun in silence,
each choice now drawing near.

The picture forms before me,
a life I dared to weave,
but dreams demand a reckoning;
shall I stay, or shall I leave?

The depths below stretch wide, unspoken,
a hollow song, a siren’s call,
but somewhere past the fear, I wonder…
what if this is not a fall?

What if I was made to fly?

In the quiet shadows of bustling streets,  
Where smiles are painted, but sorrow repeats,  
A stranger passes, eyes lost in dreams,  
Behind their facade, a heart quietly screams.  
You cannot know what burdens they bear,  
The weight of the world, too heavy to share,  
Each step they take, a dance with their fears,  
Each laugh a mask, concealing lost years.  
What storms have they weathered, what nights spent alone?  
The echoes of silence, the ache of the unknown,  
You cannot see the tears that they've cried,  
Or the dreams that lie dormant, the hope that has died.  
Kindness, a whisper, a touch on the skin,  
A reminder of light in the depths of the din,  
A warm word, a gesture, in a world run cold,  
A gentleness offered when courage feels bold.  
So be kind, dear heart, for the cost is but small,  
A moment of grace can uplift through it all,  
For we are all fighting our own hidden wars,  
And kindness, like armor, can open up doors.  
When you reach for another, be mindful, be true,  
For the battles we bear, we’re not just passing through,  
In the tapestry woven of stories untold,  
We find threads of compassion, more precious than gold.  
So tread softly, dear soul, on this fragile terrain,  
And let kindness be the balm that eases the pain,  
Though you can’t see their struggle, their fight, or their art,  
Know that kindness can heal the unseen aching heart.

In daily rush, we pass the fleeting joys,  
The sunrise painted gold upon the stream,  
A child’s soft laughter, nature's sweet employs,  
Yet we, absorbed, may lose the gentle dream.  
The beauty dwells in moments small and bright,  
In whispered winds, where blossoms sway and dance,  
But oft we miss these gifts of pure delight,  
Entranced by shadows, caught in life’s expanse.  
Take heed, dear heart, in stillness value worth,  
For every breath encased in fleeting time,  
In gratitude, find beauty’s truest birth,  
And seize each moment as a cherished rhyme.  
Let not this life, though bright, be brushed aside;  
Embrace its grace, let love within us bide.

Life is a poem, a drifting stream,
Icicle dreams in a silver gleam.
Swirly clouds in the sky unfold,
Soft-spun whispers in colors bold.

Morning hums in golden tune,
Dewdrops vanish by the noon.
Breeze that lingers, scent so sweet,
Leaves that dance but never meet.

Footsteps fade upon the shore,
Yet waves return forevermore.
Mountains rise, then crumble low,
Still the rivers onward flow.

Sunlight paints the world in gold,
Night drapes secrets, dim yet bold.
Stars like verses, stitched in light,
Tell of longing, love, and flight.

Time’s a line both sharp and blurred,
Written, erased, then reoccurred.
Nothing stays, yet all remains,
A pulsing rhythm, joy and pain.

Life is fleeting, vast, unknown.
A poem written, yet never owned.

A sunrise melts over the horizon like warm apricot jam...
golden, rich, and glistening with the first breath of light.
It spills over the land in slow, honeyed ribbons,
seeping into the earth, into the marrow of the morning.
The sky unfurls, blushing with sugared tangerine and rose,
soft as a held breath, deep as longing.

The air is thick with the scent of wild honey and ripe fruit,
heavy with something unnamed, something ancient.
A breeze, warm and feather-light, brushes against your skin,
carrying whispers of things lost and found,
of summers long buried beneath the turning of years.

Mist clings to the earth like a lover reluctant to let go,
curling in the hollows, swirling in the golden hush.
The tender spill of dawn drapes itself over the fields,
weaving light into the trembling hands of wildflowers,
each petal cupped around a glistening prayer of dew.

The river sighs, its voice low and endless,
a slow hymn to time itself.
Birdsong quivers in the air,
sharp and bright as the memory of laughter once held close.
Everything shivers on the edge of becoming...
the earth, the sky, even you, standing there,
barefoot in the quiet ache of morning.

For a moment, you are nothing but breath and bone,
woven into the hush of something vast and infinite.
The day stirs, stretching toward the waiting world,
but you remain...caught in the fragile eternity
of the first light, of the golden hush,
of a morning too beautiful to name.