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Zywa Sep 17
It is nice to dream,

if only you walk with me --

starwalking with me.
Song "Sterrenlopen" ("Starwalking", 2023, Wende Snijders), sung with S10

Collection "Passage Passion"
Diary of Jane Sep 10
Do you ever wonder
What happens to the dreams that do not come true,
The desires that remain unfulfilled
In this finite life
Even though you poured your heart and soul
To make them yours?
It is best to accept
Somethings just aren't meant to be and move on.
Or may be somewhere out there
There are countless other universes,
Where there exists a different version of ourselves,
Where those dreams didn't die
Nor those wishes remained unfulfilled.
May be it is just all in my head
But I find comfort
In this idea of parallel universes.
Zywa Jul 19
It is summer fair,

I hear it at home, passing --

me turn after turn.
"Het smelt" ("It melts", 2016, Lize Spit), July 15th, 2002

Collection "Shelter"
Sky Jul 9
How do I
make the stars fly
so I may wish forever
That peace be easier
like simply drifting
down the river
the water
and you start
to sink
You can watch the bubbles
dancing with the stars
A smile frozen in time.
Anais Vionet Jul 8
“You can have any wish,” the genie said.
“Any ONE wish?” the girl asked, a little disappointedly.
“One wish,” the genie answered, shrugging.

“Oh.. then” she said, thinking it over. “I wish for.. a banana,” she said whimsically.
“A banana?” The genie asked, hesitantly.
“Yes," the girl said, nodding her head.

A banana appeared on the table.

“As a banana pudding, please - in a bowl,” she amended.
The genie nodded, and a large bowl of delicious looking pudding took the place of the banana.

“With a spoon?” she asked sweetly, and a spoon appeared by the bowl.
She tasted the pudding and it was, indeed, magically delicious.

“A jewel encrusted spoon.” she corrected, and again it was so.

Then she blurted, all at once:
“The Spoon is In the hand of a handsome prince, who’s genetically identical to Timothée Chalamet and is so in love with me that he proposed a moment ago - to the delight of his father, the king, who knows we will both live long and happy lives, having several delightful children - that will rule long after us - but who, unbeknownst to anyone, has an immensely serious heart condition that, sadly, will claim him roughly fifteen minutes after he pronounces the prince and I husband and princess!”

The prince appeared, and the happy king.. It all happened.

As the ensuing dramas unfolded, the genie took his leave.

“It’s never just a banana,” he said to no one, snapping his finger and vanishing in a puff of wispy white smoke.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Whimsical: something playful or amusing.
Anais Vionet Jun 18
I can’t remember myself
I’m lost
in the attraction
the bleeding need
the ***** impolite hunger
make me somehow matter
soap me with important gifts
drape me with brilliant feathers
curves that bedevil
make me pretty
to him
Anais Vionet May 26
On a cool spring morning, by a clear mountain stream, an enchantress sat skywriting.

Her arms danced at awkward, inhuman angles and as they did, her bracelets jangled a melody which the birds took up in chorus.

The soundtrack was magic. Insects buzzed in beat, animals froze mid-forage, and the wind died, lest moving clouds corrupt her work.

The mask-wearing knight, a killer for the king, was dressed in black. Even the buck knife, loosely gripped in his right hand, was painted black. His boots were cloth wrapped and his movements were as smooth as smoke. He was noiseless death itself.

As he drew closer, the birds suddenly stopped chirping. "Go home boy, " the enchantress whispered. The knight blinked in disbelief and froze but the enchantress did not look around.

She pulled a half-penny from a pouch, kissed it, and lobbed it into the stream.

The knight’s mind went from deadly certain to vague. Why was he here? He sheathed his knife, lowered his mask and wiped his lips. What had he been doing?

Still not looking his way, the minx motioned to the clear, babbling stream, "Come, drink," she said. He drew beside her and with a quick glance, as he sipped water from cupped hands, he saw that she was young and beautiful.

She’d never looked at him, but she knew him in a rarefied, magical way - as if he were her brother, and she felt the sting of his long sorrow, that his wife was barren.

"Your love will bear you two sons if you're home and can bed her before dark," she said softly.

The knight stood, wiped his hands on his trousers, nodded at her, and ran for his horse.

The enchantress smiled to herself and resumed her unearthly work. The sound of horse and rider quickly faded as the birds resumed their spell-song.

Two strapping young men they would be.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Rarefied: understood or appreciated by a small group of people.
Eloisa Feb 12
I wonder if every dandelion I have sent through the wind
whispered how I still long
for a warm embrace.
And so I begged
my friendly, fragile friends
once more.
These  little wisps of white.
Please murmur my wishes
to the breeze.
My song of love,  my dream of peace.
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