My dog loves me
everyday regardless
of my stature, brains, or habits.

My pooch loves me
daily regardless
of my reputation, singing out of key
or smelly armpits
I feel blessed
And me...
I love him like family
whereby
Mi casa es su casa

I am but a mirror of wordsmith self,
scribing with etheric words.
I walk and pen moves gracefully.
I run and my words move in open corral.
I fly and phases glide inside my dreams.
I breath and visions breath
ready to dance upon page.

Penning, paper, and heart go together,
like peanut butter, jelly, and bread.

*
Bed, kissing, and cuddling go together,
like intimacy, dreams and a soulmate.

*
Thoughts, prayers, and trust go together,
like vibrations, believing and abundance.

A new grand day,
where gratitude anchors
and miracles surface.

Where gentle breezes blow
and hearts open
to the magic of life.

A new baby day
where moment unveils
unlimited possibilities
and sun sends rays of love
to all.

As I stand at alter
to marry poetry with heart,
I see the guests arrive.

They are letters that dance
upon dance floor of mind.
They are the ones
that bare presents of phases
to scribe another poem,
as marriage celebration continues.

Do you Star BG take
the creative spark called love
for better and worse?
I do
And do you Master Spark Vortex
promise to continue
to shower her with light?
I do.

I now pronounce you
Mr. and Mrs S Vortex

May you create baby poems
to be shared with visitors eyes
who watch them grow.

May you be bounded
inside passions
where the pen will speak
inside all experiences.

And may you live eternal
with fire of love
to anoint the Universe
and celebrate life.

I have become like puppet girl.
moving with strings
infused with voice of ego.

Sometimes, I jump to it’s words
that are void of self love.
Other times, I fall from lack of trust
as strings pulled tight controlling my movements.

Higher still I jump,
serving the voice that veils me from true self.
Higher and higher I move
doing deeds not in the best interest of my spirit.

Until, cords I cut with intent
as my strings become wings of light.
As I glide with no more
a Pinocchio-like nose,
buying my psyche's story.

No more to do the biding
of my ego mind
replaced now with my heart.