Long hikes and motorbikes,
Cabins, starlight, kids and tykes,
Parents, and mommies soon to be,
Gather at the greenest tree.
Spirits in ******* are unbound,
Where the silence  drowns the sound;
The victories that love has won.
We are never far when we are one.

The flower soaks the brightness of the sun, emotional oceans flood hearts by the ton.

Searching for hidden beauty within the seed, nurtured to grow into what we need.

The mind is the soil in which we plant, knowledge and wisdom slowly removing "I can't".

Growing stronger at fighting winds that blow against, more powerful then the fight is an unbreakable defense.

So absorb the sun in which you shine, to hone and strengthen an unbreakable mind.

In the still of silence hovers beauty of a smaller kind, the type you want to touch and hold to keep for all of time.

But she cannot be kept save in the memory of a dream, lost in a gorgeous vision with wings holding rainbow gleam.

The sweet and sensual body locked in the passion of an eye, blessed to witness her stunning beauty before we age and die.

Blue wings of this Dragon hold me spellbound in her sight, making me wish I could transform and fly away with her into the night.

But I am a mere mortal to this flying goddess I adore, if I can only look at her then I will always be left wanting more.

let me near enough
to touch you

i don't mind
getting cut
on your edges

Mother is on the move
Today
Mother is making new choices
Today
Mother is cherishing her
Daughter today
Mother is being mother
Something men take for granted
Today I'm being mother
Not some stage act
Or stage map.
Mothers work
Not needing a job
We choose to work
For our daughters
And families
We are mother's,
We are something not just part of man's extra ribs.
We are mothers:
I'm part of something big.

I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!

It was your voice I heard,
You waked and loved me so—
I send you back this word,
I know, I know!

Oh, seek, my love, your newer way;
I'll not be left in sorrow.
So long as I have yesterday,
Go take your ****** tomorrow!

She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.

"This
is a familiar scene for me;
You,
with your eyes on the road,
and myself,
watching the sights
as we pass them by.
There
are so many things
that I
want to ask of you,
so many questions
to be answered,
and yet,
there is a quiet
between us,
that which we also share;
the familiar sound
of silence;
the sound
of all the things
you didn’t say.”