Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
James M Vines Nov 23
Like a delicate butterfly with pigtails she used to laugh and smile. With gentle kisses and warm hugs she was mine for a while. Looking at me with puppy dog eyes as sleep found her. Into sweet dreams under warm blankets no cares to worry her. The summers passed and the winters came. The years ran together into a blur of memory. Now the sun is bright and she has blossomed from a small flower into a glorious rose. A bird that seeks its freedom as the wind finds it, calling the beautiful bird to try its wings. Feeling the warm sun of possibilities, she takes flight. A woman in her own right, no more the girl of yesterday.  She spreads her wings and she is gone, leaving only fleeting memories in her wake.
James M Vines Nov 22
I throw my change into a coffee cup. I do this everyday, I know it doesn't sound like much. When the cup gets full I take it with me. I find some deserving soul and I give the change away. One cup at a time through weeks, months and years. The cup has become worn and had to be replaced once or twice. As the years have gone on I can't remember all of the times that I have given away pennies, nickels and dimes. A few quarters mixed in for good measure every once and a while. Now I sit in my chair, my hair has gone from Brown to Grey. I can barely get around but I still find a way. I take that old coffee cup with me once or twice a month. Not as often as I used to, now not often enough. Perhaps I will get a chance to see it all one day. What pennies in a cup did for so many along life's way.
James M Vines Nov 22
Let the voices of the children rise, let them sing. Let the new generation see with new eyes. Let the walk in the streets and join hands in unity. Let that was old be forgotten and let a new way be found. Let the light of unity shine bright. From out of the ashes of division let a new world be born. Let them dance in the streets and rejoice as all become as one.
James M Vines Nov 11
The morning light shines through the curtain. I do not want to get up but I must. After 2 days of crying I have to get going. Life has not stopped just because you said goodbye. I make it to the mirror and see my blood shot eyes, you would think that I had been drinking , but that would be a lie. Just like what you told me, but at least alcohol might have killed the pain. I wash my face and pull myself together, I'll just have to work through the pain. So now that you have gone, I will put the pieces together, like a puzzle scattered on the floor. Perhaps tomorrow will be better, but first I must get through today. I hope this makes me stronger, only time will tell. I am not sure what the plan will be when I start again.
James M Vines Nov 10
Hush now and close your eyes. Lay your weary head down. Your eyes are heavy I know the night has fallen. The stars pierce the curtain of night and look down on you. Pull the covers tight over you and rest well. Dream gently and think of beautiful things. Tomorrow will come soon full of new promise, but for now gentle one, have sweet dreams.
A trickle of water falls off a mountain peak. Down between the clefts of the weather worn stones. Running steadily down into the earth. Winding through well worn passages. Flowing into larger cracks, joining with other water flows from high above on a frozen mountain peak. From a slow drip to a silver stream it moves forward. Down and out into fresh water springs that fill creeks and streams. Then into a river deep wide and clear. Onward the water flows, sometimes deep and slow, other times fast and shallow. Ever flowing the river goes, bringing life as it goes. A place where memories are created and lives are changed. Moving across the land into the sea until water is drawn up by the sun to fill the clouds, ascending to the mountain heights to fall as snow and rain beginning the journey over again.
My blood runs black and blue through my body. It pulses in and out of every fascet of my being. My emotions, my desires, my hopes and my fears. They want to escape into being through my hand and into my pen. A whole torrent of ideas waiting to expand beyond the horizon of my imagination. Something born in me, not something learned. The sharing of my essence with all who care to read. To those who dare to dream and hope for more. Visions of other places and thoughts of being. It flows in my veins, it is part of who I am .
Next page