black night, electric
yellow stars dazzle brightly
painting the heavens

Simplicity in three little words
That I regurgitate so profusely
Words as free as soaring birds
Used by the brave and the mighty.

Three little words that two bodies would declare
Every so often when the heart so desires
Whispered lightly like the wind in your hair
Or shouted out loud like brimstone and fires.

These three little words shouldn't be taken very lightly
For in it lies the power to move, most regal a mountain
Squander not its meaning, until you have proven worthy
Misuse it not, until you've known for certain.

First word refers to the being of self
Third one suggests the existence of another
Middle binds the two like nails to a shelf
Middle defines the two as they're made for each other.

I've used these words many a time in the past
Then I know not, of it's sacred binding potency
I've learnt now through time that they would last
I've learnt this through a hidden path of discovery.

Now it's value stares me right in the eyes
Piercing through my mind, body and heart
Baring itself, shedding it's cloak of disguise
First time in my life, I saw a brand new start.

I am neither brave, nor am I mighty
I have felt it so great, I know it to be true
These words resonate with conviction within me
Clear echoes from my heart, it said, "I love you".

Dreams of Tuscany
With drawn lips
Portrayed like a silver chain
Where hearts surge to follow
Feathers from wings of night
Sits a poet with the stirring of light
Paints a pretty picture
With their words of life
That echoes through their corridors of their mind
Their hearts hold many sorrows riding low in life
Many battles have been won
With their mighty muse
Many blessings to each dear
Poet for all the obstacles
To overcome.
Sweet thoughts to each one that must write this very night....*


By: Debbie Brooks

i gravitate towards you
like a dusky desolate deposit of dirt
to its glimmering counterpart
of lapis lazuli, ridden with veins of gold

i reach and reach
to no avail
and i watch as you spin quickly away
stumbling and straightening before slipping into another stagnant spiral

how do i catch up to one
so quickly moving amongst the stars?
celestial bodies they may be
but i am a mere moon, reflecting light for your gaze

i can feel my muscles expanding and stretching
tendons taut with tension and
heart pounding and pounding away at the pavement
as i move forward and grasp outwards to you

but a mere millimeter of air becomes solid
and my knuckles crash against nothingness
instead of the warmth of your palm
which i'm not truly sure was even there to begin with

the darkness of this dying universe
is colder and more derelict than i have the capacity
to understand; and so i curl inwards
alone amongst pebbles and freely floating matter

because a moon without a planet
is simply an orb named vesta
or a goddess called hestia:
frequently forgotten and oft omitted
by those who claim to be scholars of myth, keepers of lore
and by extension, the very children she presided over
overseer of life and hearth nevermore.

I simply think you're gorgeous beyond description.