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#cauldron
( ) In the silence of cold, quiet, after midnight hours...wind audibly pushes branches and leaves...sends them swaying and rustling....i hear the rain falling...like small nails hitting the neighbor's acrylic eave. the peace of these unholy hours empowers me...i feel, i rule the world, my senses and my mind are sharpest.. while others are asleep and dreaming. everyone's eyes are closed...mine, too, yet, i am so awake, i see this cauldron, where my life's goings-on are stirred by an unknown force, spinning clockwise, simmering, nothing burns, or breaks, for, underneath, its fire burns slow... good and bad issues mix and join the stew of old stubborn ones; daily rigors, wee triumphs blend in, like a goulash of meat and veggies, slowly cooking, as fire burns slow, giving time...............taking time ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::: the strong aroma of arabica jolts me from my reverie...it matters not if i haven't slept......6 am, i'm back to reality.....lots of work await me ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::: five-pm past, arabica again stands by me as i watch the orange fires of sunset, hear the crickets sing, or a frog's croak, while my rocking thoughts are cradled, while i enjoy some peace and quiet, exuded by a fragrant twilight.....it's that feel-good part of each day...saying gratitude for every sunrise and sunset, while my candle's fire burns slow.... ........ ...... ... Sally ©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 6, 2021
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Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 3:46 PM UTC
Fire Burns Slow...
( ) In the silence of cold, quiet, after midnight hours...wind audibly pushes branches and leaves...sends them swaying and rustling....i hear the rain falling...like small nails hitting the neighbor's acrylic eave. the peace of these unholy hours empowers me...i feel, i rule the world, my senses and my mind are sharpest.. while others are asleep and dreaming. everyone's eyes are closed...mine, too, yet, i am so awake, i see this cauldron, where my life's goings-on are stirred by an unknown force, spinning clockwise, simmering, nothing burns, or breaks, for, underneath, its fire burns slow... good and bad issues mix and join the stew of old stubborn ones; daily rigors, wee triumphs blend in, like a goulash of meat and veggies, slowly cooking, as fire burns slow, giving time...............taking time ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::: the strong aroma of arabica jolts me from my reverie...it matters not if i haven't slept......6 am, i'm back to reality.....lots of work await me ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::::::: five-pm past, arabica again stands by me as i watch the orange fires of sunset, hear the crickets sing, or a frog's croak, while my rocking thoughts are cradled, while i enjoy some peace and quiet, exuded by a fragrant twilight.....it's that feel-good part of each day...saying gratitude for every sunrise and sunset, while my candle's fire burns slow.... ........ ...... ... Sally ©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan January 6, 2021
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__Three Scottish hags brew up a political storm in a...cauldron.__
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Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
Macbeth In Haste
The Kiss of Ceridwen by Michael R. Burch The kiss of Ceridwen I have felt upon my brow, and the past and the future have appeared, an eerie vapor, mingling with the here and now. And Morrigan, the Raven, the messenger, has come, to tell me that the gods, unsung, will not last long when the druids’ harps grow dumb. Originally published by Songs of Innocence Keywords/Tags: Ceridwen, white, witch, enchantress, sorceress, crone, cauldron, awen, throne, Morfran, power, Wales, Welsh, Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon
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Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 1:17 AM UTC
The Kiss of Ceridwen
Like a cauldron of spice that’s been left to simmer, The shifting dunes; of sand and all it’s golden glimmer. It’s a taste of home and I’ve got a ticket to ride, Flames lick the lucid leaves you’ve drained and dried.
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Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
Herbs & Spices
Lips are not the only playground for liars Their eyes are holding back storms Like cauldrons brewing lightning With such a high voltage To shock you so suddenly You will forget there ever was A word named truth
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Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 11:15 PM UTC
Liars Playground
Conjurer of spells, I stir phrases in a witch's cauldron..... wizard's breath to tint the potion Let it boil over Reduce the excess add emotion and a four leaf clover Temperature at serving time defines the tone and type of incantation Cold spells work as heartless breaths Warm ones jubilation Hotter brew brings swift results Careful even death My sorcery is well disguised as poetry and song.   I'll have you laugh, yank a tear or make a day feel twice as long. I'll look you in the eye as I feed you all my truths and lies None can break the grip of words I wield, won't know to even try Warlock...my voice enchants let me whisper in your ear You'll result bewitched.... but if I hold you high ..... there's never need to fear
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
Sorcerer of Words
the sky, a cauldron steaming soup is getting cooked, moon, butter floats on.
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 8:44 AM UTC
universal soup