Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
we sit on the back deck in darkness. amost..... there is a rough circle of glowing embers ........from the mosquito coils and then..... two glowing cat's eyes. we.... my husband and i .....both have the scent.... of...... aeroguard... sprayed heavily on our skin. as we sit in oppressive heat...... ...waiting for the ....gasp... of a cooling.. breeze to come..... the air so moist and warm has brought forth..... ....the frogs ....and we hear......    the .....deep... throated call of the... tree frogs competing...... with the pobblebonk's... ...unique sound. ...even the cicadas..... ....have succumbed to the muggy air... and have ........gone quiet. .....all we hear in the dark is the frogs...... ...reeebert.. and ....pobbblebbBONK... amphibian lothario's crooning away..... ....as we wait for that gasp of cooling air...

reebert............



..... ...    . .pobbble........BONK
pobble BONK
...REEBERT. REeBeRT...RRREEBERT.
nothing like living in country australia.

nb. aerogaurd is a spray on insect repellant smell a lot like wd40 degreaser keep
the mossies and bugs away.
A hardened heart
made new by the
One True King.
*jm
I'm made of porcelain
And of glass.
Kick me once,
And watch
As my fragile body
Starts to crack.
Kick me twice,
And watch
As I fall and shatter to pieces.
But this porcelain doll
Won't be defeated.
Our true creator
Always pulls through,
Mending every one of His children
With healing hands and glue.
*jm
They come and
Sale their wilderness
To the city!

They come and
Disseminate their chortle to city dwellers!
They come and
Teach business of honesty and humanity to the
People living in the jungle of concrete and sorrow!

They are prudent,
They are celebrant of
Compassion, peace and happiness!
Every Sunday in our place (Guwahati) there is a weekly market at Beltola. Many tribal women coming from neighboring villages to this market to sale different herbs, Serbs, creeper, roots etc for sale. These are collected from the wilderness in their homestead and village common land. These women not only sale these product but also disseminate many indigenous knowledge on food and medicine along with recipe.  They are so polite and witty everyone will be delighted with them. In every Sun day their smiling face reminds me about compassion, peace and happiness.
The moon's pale face regards the nighttime skies
As the stars pass by on their ancient quest.
Silent shadows glide 'cross the ground
From clouds that move and make no sound.
Nighttime is when her spirit will rise
To ever wander and never know rest.

Eileen was the name of the red-haired girl
Who lived in the castle near the sea.
It was the only home she'd ever known,
This ancestral fortress made of stone.
It was a simple and tranquil world,
The only place she wanted to be.

The castle was home for ages long past
For her father, his father, and beyond.
Their memory lived within the grey-****** walls,
Their deeds were remembered in each of the halls.
The castle was safe; its walls held fast.
Yet its fate lay within a wizard's wand.

Galyn was a wizard of dark renown,
Winding his way from times of ancient yore.
Great was the power at his command;
Deep was the knowledge he kept at hand.
Few were the secrets he had not found,
As he labored at his art behind a locked door.

Standing on a tower's balcony on a grey, windy day
Eileen could feel the sea's breath on her skin.
Galyn would watch her standing there,
The wind playing and dancing with her hair.
Though for ages he walked a solitary way
The sight caused a stirring deep within.

From ancient ages he searched in shadows dark
Seeking answers in places unseen and unknown.
Yet this power was one never felt before,
Twisting his emotions and piercing him to his core.
It ignited within him a powerful spark,
A burning desire to make her his own.

Eileen never e'en thought, not once in her life
That she could hold sway over a wizard's heart.
Her youthful innocence knew naught of such a thing.
She dreamt of knights slaying dragons, or even of marrying a king.
She could not fathom Galyn wanting her for a wife
Be it through trickery, treachery, guile, or blackest art.
Copyright 2013, William M. Winegar
This is a work in progress.
It's not the rain
that makes my eyes wet.
It hasn't rained in forty days.
Nights are long and quiet.
The silence cuts to bone.

It wasn't rain that quenched the fire.
It hasn't rained in forty nights.
The well is dry... so am I.
Nights I sit in silence
while it rains.

r ~ 4/19/14
~

And I fall…down

As the sunset of life reaches out to me
in marmalade swirls…orange sherbet dreams
I follow in loose footsteps,
not sure of the bridges I cross
or those burned in the process

Alone I stumble on braided pebbles,
scattered on this serpentine path,
feeding my mind with thoughts
Peering back on what was,
crying when your picture finds me

Dark tangerine tints line the sky now
for the day…this day…my life
shall soon disappear beyond the horizon
Fading to a tiny speck,
hiding in plain sight where no one can see…or care

Finality sings its sad melody
in fractured bar chords and minor notes
As I again find you invading my soul,
reaching down from my heart,
the place you still reside

And I whisper I am sorry…for the pain
Collections of hurt I did not realize I carried
beneath shiny bows and pretty paper
Sending you away from me…my precious gift,
the loss of all that was me…you

Quicker my steps drive
to that straight line illusion beckoning
Darker still as minutes pass
for I know this end is mine alone
as the moon crests the sea and I fall…down
Next page