Cyndi Marie Feb 8
I have visions of me
Standing in a sun beam
In one of your cabled sweaters
Too big for me
But thick, warm, white, and comfy
On a deck we built
To add to our dream home
There's a field of tall grass
Behind me, and it stretches for miles
My hair is soft brown and long
Blowing in the gentle morning breeze
You bring me a cup of coffee
Still wearing that same beanie
You've been wearing since I've known you
Your broad smile takes up your whole face
Disappearing only when you reach for a kiss
And there it is returned
You wrap an arm around me from behind
And we stand there
Sipping coffee and enjoying the stillness of us
I daydream about this constantly. It's an outward perspective. And all I can see is a couple that loves each other more than anything.
An invisible field
Emanating from
A tangible thing
A precious gift
To wield a voice
To speak or sing

More able
To affect another
More able
Than anything

The invisible field
From which we churn
An evolving thing
Our minds to learn
To bring together
In love
The original tether

More able
To affect another
More able
Than anything

An evolving thing
Our minds to learn
That we are more precious
Than any thing
Mike Virgl Jan 4
With pedal's red flush
A rose grew in the arctic
Survivng to blush
How can on interpret a poem when no one has a clue who, what or where it is about? What if even the author is unsure?
Jonathan Sawyer Dec 2017
I. There exists only the Fractal.
II. The Fractal contains itself.
III. Everything else is derived.
10 Dec 2017 - Behold, the answer to Unified Field Theory in just 4 sentences and 18 words.
Dhaye Margaux Dec 2017
Green field is waiting
People are praying
The earth is ready for the day
The clouds are showing
The sun is rising
The wind is preparing the way
I don't have much time to see
But the heart is caring for thee
Lips are not prepared to say
In this field we will be free
From all worries to be
For things won't forever stay...
In memory of my grandma...
George Grenfell Nov 2017
There it stands, arachnid shadows creeping down, its veins flow hidden, causing the grass to breathe.

A distant storm closes in,
it swallows the horizon, accentuating my trivialty .
I rest in solitude.

I make my way up the hill.
I can see the wind through the things that it moves, its power still dormant, demanding my respect.

As i get closer i can sense a force above me,
A blue marble spins and glistens in orange light,
i try desperately not to fall off.

Its almost too much to bare as i stretch out my hands.
In that instant i realise my eyes have been closed.

I hesitate to open them,
The vast atmosphere is now an ambience moaning low.
A deep chant reverberates inside.

I can feel Herculean walls towering to an ornate roof, and statues of gold staring into me, piercing my skin.

Never blinking, never averting their gaze, i have to see.

The hairs on my neck stand up and I thrust my eyes wide.

A cold breeze drifts in from my garden as rain drips off the tin roof.
I get up from my chair wiping my tired eyes.

I look out at the old tree from years past, but i see it for the first time.
Again this one is based off a recurring dream theme of a lone tree on a hill, and a huge monestary at the edge. Ive tried to reflect the atmosphere accurately.
Jikai Zheng Nov 2017
skin covered in shadows
a dead winter leaf bouncing against a flourishing summer tree
                                    catching the handle of a spider string
holding onto the living as if
                     it can escape its crumbling burial
             only can a field of soft, mumbling earth
                             call sleep more swiftly than a mattress
within the green and blue sphere are textured tints that release
            wifts of genuine air spilling into half-filled industrial lungs
                      can art be felt when eyes don't open?
as closed eyelids fall humble to the glowing yellow light
            answered silently with a curl of the lips
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