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#wayoflife
The age of 12 I made my first Afghan 276 squares. Grannies taught me their wears Gave me scraps and skeins My Love of crochet remains Crochet a single thread A blanket Afghan to warm a bed One of a kind originals custom made Top grade yarn does not fade They taught me a single stitch. 50 years later, I have found my niche. Double crochet I’m on my way All the other stitches were child’s play Crochet a single stitch Learn the tension know the pitch I can look at any picture and make it Original item sight unseen Creative licensure if you know what I mean Crochet matrix, I see in my dreams Counting the stitches, blocking the seams Crochet a single thread and hook I taught myself how to read a pattern book The vast Spectrum of colors to the naked eye The beauty so vibrant it can make me cry Passion is not skin deep Much deeper into the psychic crochet creeps Color dances in the light Competing colors dual a fight Those are the colors that don’t seem quite right The color wheel never lies Crazy color matches defy Color never silent, has much to say Always willing to explore convey Weather in the light of day Or in the shadows of mutate Gray A ball of yarn socks to **** Crochet A single thread, From a concepts in your head Creativity, leaps, and bounds Every color can be found A sweater made commercial grade Pieces measured pattern devised Errors Correcting stitches revised Coming together  before my eyes Yarn by color in bins to keep out the dust sit in the yarn room for inspiration a must When the colors speak to me I can set the pattern free I am the opposite of hidebound I am willing to try new concepts and ideas to keep me fresh and relevant That flexibility is heaven sent When I can see the finished product in my head Time to set out the colors on my bed Littler pieces, a crocheted beanie hat I make up as I go along. I can finish a hat in 20 minutes Approximately four to five country songs It’s as simple as that I have 125 finished hats preparing for the Christmas season Crocheting I don’t need a reason But it helps A  lap throw sofa blanket made in three days The finish pattern will amaze Im fast and I make a product that will last. My crocheted items are made with love because my talent is a gift from up above BLT Webster’s Word of the day challenge August 10 Hidebound Someone or something described as hidebound is inflexible and unwilling to accept new or different ideas Inspired songs Somewhere over the rainbow by Judy Garland Footnotes I use crocheting to help alleviate my pain. If I’m hurting, I focus everything on the crochet stitch the line whatever it is. I’m working on finish this row put it all into the crochet preoccupy myself. I’ve done that for many years. That’s why I’m so fast dealing with the pain is a preoccupation.. If you’re gonna be hurting when you’re sitting down, you might as well be up and walking around preoccupy your time until the pain will let you go. It really gets me going to have a finish item that I would like to keep for myself. That’s how much I like it then I know I have a good product. It’s really hard for me to finish an item that somebody wants that is really ugly lol but the customer is always right. It’s hard for me to get excited about somebody else’s creation. I keep coming up with something new something fresh something different. It might be the same pattern and different colors but every pattern I have is an original in mine. The trim from this blanket the center of that blanket. I’ve even used modified lace doilies pattern and made them into a blanket. It came out fantastic. A lot of work, but it was worth it. Some blankets are so intricate. I wouldn’t do them again. I like taking baby blankets and making them when you’re watching TV and you don’t need a whole heavy blanket. You just need a lap throw perfect.
0
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 1:46 AM UTC
Crochet a single Thread from the contents of my head
The age of 12 I made my first Afghan 276 squares. Grannies taught me their wears Gave me scraps and skeins My Love of crochet remains Crochet a single thread A blanket Afghan to warm a bed One of a kind originals custom made Top grade yarn does not fade They taught me a single stitch. 50 years later, I have found my niche. Double crochet I’m on my way All the other stitches were child’s play Crochet a single stitch Learn the tension know the pitch I can look at any picture and make it Original item sight unseen Creative licensure if you know what I mean Crochet matrix, I see in my dreams Counting the stitches, blocking the seams Crochet a single thread and hook I taught myself how to read a pattern book The vast Spectrum of colors to the naked eye The beauty so vibrant it can make me cry Passion is not skin deep Much deeper into the psychic crochet creeps Color dances in the light Competing colors dual a fight Those are the colors that don’t seem quite right The color wheel never lies Crazy color matches defy Color never silent, has much to say Always willing to explore convey Weather in the light of day Or in the shadows of mutate Gray A ball of yarn socks to **** Crochet A single thread, From a concepts in your head Creativity, leaps, and bounds Every color can be found A sweater made commercial grade Pieces measured pattern devised Errors Correcting stitches revised Coming together  before my eyes Yarn by color in bins to keep out the dust sit in the yarn room for inspiration a must When the colors speak to me I can set the pattern free I am the opposite of hidebound I am willing to try new concepts and ideas to keep me fresh and relevant That flexibility is heaven sent When I can see the finished product in my head Time to set out the colors on my bed Littler pieces, a crocheted beanie hat I make up as I go along. I can finish a hat in 20 minutes Approximately four to five country songs It’s as simple as that I have 125 finished hats preparing for the Christmas season Crocheting I don’t need a reason But it helps A  lap throw sofa blanket made in three days The finish pattern will amaze Im fast and I make a product that will last. My crocheted items are made with love because my talent is a gift from up above BLT Webster’s Word of the day challenge August 10 Hidebound Someone or something described as hidebound is inflexible and unwilling to accept new or different ideas Inspired songs Somewhere over the rainbow by Judy Garland Footnotes I use crocheting to help alleviate my pain. If I’m hurting, I focus everything on the crochet stitch the line whatever it is. I’m working on finish this row put it all into the crochet preoccupy myself. I’ve done that for many years. That’s why I’m so fast dealing with the pain is a preoccupation.. If you’re gonna be hurting when you’re sitting down, you might as well be up and walking around preoccupy your time until the pain will let you go. It really gets me going to have a finish item that I would like to keep for myself. That’s how much I like it then I know I have a good product. It’s really hard for me to finish an item that somebody wants that is really ugly lol but the customer is always right. It’s hard for me to get excited about somebody else’s creation. I keep coming up with something new something fresh something different. It might be the same pattern and different colors but every pattern I have is an original in mine. The trim from this blanket the center of that blanket. I’ve even used modified lace doilies pattern and made them into a blanket. It came out fantastic. A lot of work, but it was worth it. Some blankets are so intricate. I wouldn’t do them again. I like taking baby blankets and making them when you’re watching TV and you don’t need a whole heavy blanket. You just need a lap throw perfect.
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78
Being a hero, still thoroughly despised -- for some bad manners.
0
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 3:43 AM UTC
[ Being a hero ]
As you are just get going for a talk, Few queries I have please do not balk. Is this important , what do you speak? People have issues, solutions they seek? Or you have soapbox, desire to show, What is inside , you need a window. To ***** the all , which have been repressed, For years days nights ,yet to be expressed. It matters not whether, they make any sense? Already so clamor , making it intense. What solace you granting, while making this talk? Or you need someone, with whom you can walk? Think just one opinion can make someone fall, If treated with care it, may shape someone tall. Not always a weapon which wins a war, Words can often be lethal and fatal at par. Wordings are blessings and your asset too, So use them with wisdom and not just a boo. You know It is foolish to go for a walk, Like Jackals in Jungle gather for talk. Ajay Amitabh Suman: All Rights Reserved
0
Nov 28, 2021
Nov 28, 2021 at 1:57 AM UTC
Talk when it's worthy to Talk
Rule 1 If you want To love "Pinch the soul" I repeat Rule 2 If you wished To be loved "Surrender" Read that again Rule 3 If you want Both of it "Get ready" You will
0
Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 4:42 AM UTC
Rules On Love
And he said I'm not 9 to 5 person Sometimes I'm 7 to 9 Sometimes I'm 10 to 7 Sometimes I'm Round the clock But while I rest I just neglect The **** time
0
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 1:41 AM UTC
Days like this
***** asked her/him "What is the thing I need to change?" All of the sudden She/He replied "Obsession" "Obsession with me" In silence, ***** thanked For reminding A reason
0
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 5:16 AM UTC
Killing Soul
Tell them Mostly ***** stays silent Sometime ***** has something to say And sometime ***** has to behave arrogant And sometime ***** has to turn the back To keep distance ***** has to do All this Just to keep alive God in HIM/HER Tell them ***** is different Not everyone understands And, they don't have to What is going on
0
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
Bitter Truth
प्रेम छ कतै, कतै दुःख, आक्रोस, निरासा दयाको खानि कतै, उत्खनन गरे कतै धोखा झुटैझुटका कहानीहरु, कतै दुःख निरासा कुसलताले झिक्न सकिन्छ सम्मानका भाषा ज्ञानको छत्र चढाउ, अस्त्र बुद्घिको कतै मुर्खका फणहरु, कतै स्वच्छ राह कतै सृजनाका झरनाहरु, कतै उर्जा, उत्साह दुबिधाका रुपहरु, कतै नीरस अन्धकार लिलै लिलाको देख्छु यो संसार कतै दानव मान्छेहरु कतै मानवहरुभित्र इश्वरको वास कतै मौनता, कतै छ मुस्कराहट करुणाका कथा कतै, कतै कर्मका रुपहरु उल्झन आरोप कतै, कतै संर्घष, समस्या अविश्वास कतै, कतै रुखोपना कृतज्ञता कतै, कतै प्रसंसै प्रसंसा कतै संबेदना, कतै सद्गुण प्रेम, मायाको खानी कतै कतै निष्ठा, कतै बैराग्य सत्य, सेवा कतै, कतै सर्मपण लिलै लिलाको संसारमा रहश्यै रहश्यको मुहान ।
0
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 9:09 PM UTC
लिला
प्रेम छ कतै, कतै दुःख, आक्रोस, निरासा दयाको खानि कतै, उत्खनन गरे कतै धोखा झुटैझुटका कहानीहरु, कतै दुःख निरासा कुसलताले झिक्न सकिन्छ सम्मानका भाषा ज्ञानको छत्र चढाउ, अस्त्र बुद्घिको कतै मुर्खका फणहरु, कतै स्वच्छ राह कतै सृजनाका झरनाहरु, कतै उर्जा, उत्साह दुबिधाका रुपहरु, कतै नीरस अन्धकार लिलै लिलाको देख्छु यो संसार कतै दानव मान्छेहरु कतै मानवहरुभित्र इश्वरको वास कतै मौनता, कतै छ मुस्कराहट करुणाका कथा कतै, कतै कर्मका रुपहरु उल्झन आरोप कतै, कतै संर्घष, समस्या अविश्वास कतै, कतै रुखोपना कृतज्ञता कतै, कतै प्रसंसै प्रसंसा कतै संबेदना, कतै सद्गुण प्रेम, मायाको खानी कतै कतै निष्ठा, कतै बैराग्य सत्य, सेवा कतै, कतै सर्मपण लिलै लिलाको संसारमा रहश्यै रहश्यको मुहान ।
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22
This desert is our life. From the dry earth we gather roots and melons. Over the endless sands we hunt the gemsbok and the springbok.    Sometimes the ga roots are shriveled and bitter. Sometimes men are sick with thirst and hunger.    When there is water we drink and sing and clap our hands. When there is food we eat and dance and clap our hands.    The eland does not come to us and ask to be eaten -- one must know how to make the arrow and poison it and where to look and how to hide and shoot. . . .    What man is so foolish as to expect more? To expect the rain to be always falling, his eggs full of water and his stomach full of meat?    You have strong animals to carry you. You have much food and water. Your digging sticks are hard and sharp. Your shooting-sticks are like lightning.    You are a powerful man and a good man. I can see that in your eyes. But what you offer is a dream.    You can give us water and meat. You can fill our hands with tobacco and perfect beads. But you cannot give us happiness.    A man can only drink so much and then he is full. If a man is always eating honey, he tires of it and becomes sick.    And even if all life were sweet -- what man is not food for lions and dogs? A man who has tasted in his life no bitterness will find death very bitter.    My mouth longs for sweetness but sweetness brings bitterness and in the end they are one.    So I ask you: Take your digging sticks and your shooting-sticks. And do not leave them behind. Go to the green lands you came from. We shall walk in this desert as we always have.
0
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
The Bushman Speaks
This desert is our life. From the dry earth we gather roots and melons. Over the endless sands we hunt the gemsbok and the springbok.    Sometimes the ga roots are shriveled and bitter. Sometimes men are sick with thirst and hunger.    When there is water we drink and sing and clap our hands. When there is food we eat and dance and clap our hands.    The eland does not come to us and ask to be eaten -- one must know how to make the arrow and poison it and where to look and how to hide and shoot. . . .    What man is so foolish as to expect more? To expect the rain to be always falling, his eggs full of water and his stomach full of meat?    You have strong animals to carry you. You have much food and water. Your digging sticks are hard and sharp. Your shooting-sticks are like lightning.    You are a powerful man and a good man. I can see that in your eyes. But what you offer is a dream.    You can give us water and meat. You can fill our hands with tobacco and perfect beads. But you cannot give us happiness.    A man can only drink so much and then he is full. If a man is always eating honey, he tires of it and becomes sick.    And even if all life were sweet -- what man is not food for lions and dogs? A man who has tasted in his life no bitterness will find death very bitter.    My mouth longs for sweetness but sweetness brings bitterness and in the end they are one.    So I ask you: Take your digging sticks and your shooting-sticks. And do not leave them behind. Go to the green lands you came from. We shall walk in this desert as we always have.
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36
Ambivert By default He is If He enjoys, He'll If He have to, He'll If it keeps harmony, He'll If it needs fake smile, He'll not If it disturbs his mind, He'll not Extrovert 100% To the closed circle He is Introvert 100% To the rest He is Ambivert By default He is
0
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
Way Of Life
He stays Silent Most of the time If he have to tell Something Elegant That instant He prefers A brief whispers Too exclusive Too simple He is aware of Bystandar Believes It must be A Poetry
0
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
Way Of Life
Fires burn all night, it's been so long, since we've all seen one another, As dancing flames lick the air, pulling an all nighter, a willing sacrifice, is offered, to the heating God, a Soapstone fireplace, made locally, In her lovely sturdy black cast iron, she's rugged that baby, cooking everything perfectly, in the kitchen, & heating everything else in the house, to perfection too, Warmed hearts beat, A single tear falls, as we survived the day, a load off my mind, some relief from the grind, Again, I'm soooo, satiated, from my, middle Eastern dinner, sharing the love, & the brilliant composition, WOW I hear - A-mazing chef, truly, Ahhhh t'was nothing really, but thank ya, emmm... roasted root veggies, prepared, with a lovely maple glaze, spicy and sweet, but really such a filling treat, A cherry glazed ham, arugula, herb & green salad, homemade oat rolls with fresh Vermont butter, melted, Yum, I'm a piece of Vermont, my capable hands, handed down to me, making Wintry M A G I C in your kitchen, cuz' I'm just a guest tonight, in this house anyway, The twinkle lights in the room, look just like dragonflies to me, gold and orange shining, so glad they  stopped in, everyone, all day, Good people, good food, good times, GREAT memories, It must be 80 degrees in here, I'm roasting in this place, As a lone candle is left flickering, into a small mountain of wax, as it is dripping down the side, permanently changing the mantel, My alter, just for you, is adorned with crystals & stones, as I hold a crucifix & bones, I pray another day like this, folded hands don't lie, early till late, finally a reprieve, I try to believe, As tired grateful hands and bellies, my "fandamnly" are all in jammies, & tucked in tight, love you all I say goodnight, sweeeet dreams sweet poets, All in flannel and the like as our boots & mitts dry out, A busy fire, is doing so much, a fan is whirring, all are, resting so peacefully, a mother's true joy, a lover, & a friend, on whom you can depend, I love you all so very much, I miss you too, I'm watching that beautiful man sleep, and snore so low, watch him breathe again, I say please don't go, As the heavy wet snow, blankets these Green mountains, covering my world tonight, it cleans the sins of the day, & yesterday, wash us clean, in that pure white, Low music, is playing, into the still, it was left on, I remember it all with you, & I probably always will, cheers my love, wherever you are, so very very far above, My head is down on a soft pillow, warm sheets and blankets, As I set to see you again, in my dreams, Gently closing my eyelids, you bid me adieu,  again I'm reminded, reminded of you, Yup, pulling an all nighter with your memory again, As I, just,           d               r                  i                   f                      t                      .                        .                           .                              .                                .                Cherie Nolan © 2016
0
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Pulling An All Nighter With You
Fires burn all night, it's been so long, since we've all seen one another, As dancing flames lick the air, pulling an all nighter, a willing sacrifice, is offered, to the heating God, a Soapstone fireplace, made locally, In her lovely sturdy black cast iron, she's rugged that baby, cooking everything perfectly, in the kitchen, & heating everything else in the house, to perfection too, Warmed hearts beat, A single tear falls, as we survived the day, a load off my mind, some relief from the grind, Again, I'm soooo, satiated, from my, middle Eastern dinner, sharing the love, & the brilliant composition, WOW I hear - A-mazing chef, truly, Ahhhh t'was nothing really, but thank ya, emmm... roasted root veggies, prepared, with a lovely maple glaze, spicy and sweet, but really such a filling treat, A cherry glazed ham, arugula, herb & green salad, homemade oat rolls with fresh Vermont butter, melted, Yum, I'm a piece of Vermont, my capable hands, handed down to me, making Wintry M A G I C in your kitchen, cuz' I'm just a guest tonight, in this house anyway, The twinkle lights in the room, look just like dragonflies to me, gold and orange shining, so glad they  stopped in, everyone, all day, Good people, good food, good times, GREAT memories, It must be 80 degrees in here, I'm roasting in this place, As a lone candle is left flickering, into a small mountain of wax, as it is dripping down the side, permanently changing the mantel, My alter, just for you, is adorned with crystals & stones, as I hold a crucifix & bones, I pray another day like this, folded hands don't lie, early till late, finally a reprieve, I try to believe, As tired grateful hands and bellies, my "fandamnly" are all in jammies, & tucked in tight, love you all I say goodnight, sweeeet dreams sweet poets, All in flannel and the like as our boots & mitts dry out, A busy fire, is doing so much, a fan is whirring, all are, resting so peacefully, a mother's true joy, a lover, & a friend, on whom you can depend, I love you all so very much, I miss you too, I'm watching that beautiful man sleep, and snore so low, watch him breathe again, I say please don't go, As the heavy wet snow, blankets these Green mountains, covering my world tonight, it cleans the sins of the day, & yesterday, wash us clean, in that pure white, Low music, is playing, into the still, it was left on, I remember it all with you, & I probably always will, cheers my love, wherever you are, so very very far above, My head is down on a soft pillow, warm sheets and blankets, As I set to see you again, in my dreams, Gently closing my eyelids, you bid me adieu,  again I'm reminded, reminded of you, Yup, pulling an all nighter with your memory again, As I, just,           d               r                  i                   f                      t                      .                        .                           .                              .                                .                Cherie Nolan © 2016
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137
We were travelin' down a Lost Highway Down some Dusty Back Wood Road Way Out in the Sticks East of Overshoe West of Bumfuc* Out in the middle of nowhere on a Crazy Hot Summer Afternoon We had the windows down Just Whistlin' Dixie feelin' and shooting the breezy air conditioning admirin' the lovely green quiltin' of the lush Green Mountains We had some smiles on our faces   listenin' to the tunes playin' on the radio It must have been our favorite song because we were really singin' Enjoying the thoughts that this music was bringin' As the world just passed on by I could see it in your eyes I'm sure you thought it in mine "And you're right my friend can I tell you more about it just up around this next Bend?" "Cause you got your life going on and I got mine but somehow today our lives are.... well... they seem intertwined And it's all good." Rocks and pebbles keep kicking up from those back tires of a Shiny Turquoise Blue Ford F150 Flareside Pickup Truck named Lucy and "I really love that sound ya know?" "Ya...I do." "This place this whole place it's like a endless and beautiful picture show and I don't want to go home just yet If you weren't here... I'd swear that I must dreamin' "..... "So let's pull over that looks like a good spot right here You could have another beer You know....take a Little Rest Stop "Turn the engine off just don't take out the key" "So what are you thinking there my Cherie? What's really on your mind?" "Well... I don't know just wondered if you can kiss me?" "Awwwww.....sure I'll kiss you sweetie" "You know I'm in this really strange place Something that time.... just can't seem to erase" "You don't need to explain and stop racking your brain girl ..It's all good." As he slowly slid his strong warm hand around the back of my neck And pulled me in close I got lost in the most Beautiful Moment.... Dreaming while I was Wide Awake. Cherie Nolan © All rights reserved.
0
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
***** Dust Road Dreaming"
We were travelin' down a Lost Highway Down some Dusty Back Wood Road Way Out in the Sticks East of Overshoe West of Bumfuc* Out in the middle of nowhere on a Crazy Hot Summer Afternoon We had the windows down Just Whistlin' Dixie feelin' and shooting the breezy air conditioning admirin' the lovely green quiltin' of the lush Green Mountains We had some smiles on our faces   listenin' to the tunes playin' on the radio It must have been our favorite song because we were really singin' Enjoying the thoughts that this music was bringin' As the world just passed on by I could see it in your eyes I'm sure you thought it in mine "And you're right my friend can I tell you more about it just up around this next Bend?" "Cause you got your life going on and I got mine but somehow today our lives are.... well... they seem intertwined And it's all good." Rocks and pebbles keep kicking up from those back tires of a Shiny Turquoise Blue Ford F150 Flareside Pickup Truck named Lucy and "I really love that sound ya know?" "Ya...I do." "This place this whole place it's like a endless and beautiful picture show and I don't want to go home just yet If you weren't here... I'd swear that I must dreamin' "..... "So let's pull over that looks like a good spot right here You could have another beer You know....take a Little Rest Stop "Turn the engine off just don't take out the key" "So what are you thinking there my Cherie? What's really on your mind?" "Well... I don't know just wondered if you can kiss me?" "Awwwww.....sure I'll kiss you sweetie" "You know I'm in this really strange place Something that time.... just can't seem to erase" "You don't need to explain and stop racking your brain girl ..It's all good." As he slowly slid his strong warm hand around the back of my neck And pulled me in close I got lost in the most Beautiful Moment.... Dreaming while I was Wide Awake. Cherie Nolan © All rights reserved.
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69
What is a man, if not a moment of time? A moment, lived truly alive, Soul dancing to the hymn of life, Pure, lucent, the chains forgotten? What is a man, if not a drop of rain? Falling into the sea's might, Together with so many, and yet alone, Not knowing, or comprehending, yet putting up a fight? What is a man, if not a child? At the quest of a treasure, mundane, Laughing, crying, at a moments rest, As the waters of his mind rage disdain? What is a man, if not a childish dream? A glimpse of the truth. A picture, divine. What is a man if not the truth inside? What is a man, if not his deepest fear? Monsters which under the veil, hide, What is a man, who knows not, The darkness is all but an absence of light? What is a man, if not a closed fist? Clutching, hanging on to an illusion, vain, "To let go would be  absurd", he tells himself, As the other hand wipes tears from the pain. What is a man, if not a fool, sly? Calling the truth too fantastic, the song too sweet? A fish afraid of the sea, a bird fearing the sky, What is a man, if not his spirit, indeed? What is a man, if not a writing in dust? Words, which in the next moment, cease, What is his life, if not a delusion? Erased from existence, come the breeze?
0
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
What Is A Man?
Heed not to the words of the world. And heed not to the wavering mind. Heed only to the majestic hand of life, Kneel only to the solemn love of God. Love not the glamour of youth. Adore not the glittering dreams it gives. Believe in one simplistic life And make it divine as long as you live. Live not like the common stock of people. Live not like the worst of their outcasts. Live like the ones who run away, Never to return and never to see again. -The Silent Poet
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Your life, your title
I start in the ground. I just lay there without a sound. For now I am just a little seed. Hopefully when I grow up I am not mistaken for a **** For now I am just to wait. To wait for the cold and dry to dissipate. Soon will come the warmth and water. That will help me grow tall and strong so that I may not totter. I will then have the strength and power, to finally be called a flower. I will finally be able to feel and chase the sun. Which is what I do for fun. I follow it from beginning to end. This is my daily trend. When my final days come near. I'm will be glad that I cannot shed a tear. I hope to be picked as a child's treasure and to become a mother's pleasure. So in the end when I wilt, I will remember the happiness that I have built.
0
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
Flower
I hear the stories my books tell, all the different stories I hear. Each one carries a new way of life. Those of witchcraft and wizardry tells stories of magic, spells, and potions. Carrying the many whispers of witches and wizards, warlocks and giants. Those of angels and demons tell of epic battles and fallen angels. The cries from the battlefield as heaven and hell clash call out to me. Those of vampires tell of monsters that only come out at night, with cold touches and bloodlust. Of temptation and desolation. Those of forbidden love tells stories of love lost and found again. Of happily never after's that carries broken promises. And soon the tears from the heart broken begin to match my own. Those that tell of innocence lost, yearn to be consoled and heard. So that perhaps they're not alone and that their pain is shared. With the possibility of a silver lining. I hear my books calling for me, I hear them loud and clear. Each book yearning to unleash its story, welcoming me with into its world with open arms (a.d)
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
I Hear the Stories My Books Tell