"activates" poems
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth,
knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized.
The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth,
knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth.
Nothing is found except it is hidden,
every one has a talent.
Nothing is hidden except it is a secret,
every person has a gift.
Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure,
every individual has a potential.
Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found,
ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered;
lf only they can discover their purpose on earth.
Every person has a destined mission to accomplish,
ln them lives voices waiting to be heard;
lf only they can activate their gifts.
Every individual has a solution to provide on earth,
ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized;
lf only they can exploit their potentials.
How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for.
How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth.
How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation.
Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers.
Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man.
Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures.
Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents?
Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts?
Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials?
He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward.
He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever.
He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth.
Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent,
knowing that much is required of you.
Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents.
Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents,
activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively.
Strive to discover your purpose on earth,
Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and
Strive to maximize your potentials.
He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth,
will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever.
He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation.
He that maximizes his potentials effectively,
will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky.
Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Positive
Energy
Activates
Constant
Elevation
it was love at first sight
the very first time my mind found a different path - positivity
i'm a free spirit focused on levels of having fun
relevant choices, relevant decisions
in a point of insouciancy
a peace of mind acknowledged .
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
Drug; he controls my brain.
He stirs an irresistible blend of chemicals in my body and convinces me to fall for him; he increases blood flow to the primitive areas of my brain and activates the circuits responsible for love and desire.
Adrenaline; he balances my stress.
He keeps my heart strong and healthy as thoughts of him and us dominate me and excite me, prompting me to get tachycardia (fast heart rate above 100 bpm) and my blood pressure to rise.
Dopamine; he regulates my focus.
He stimulates desire and triggers pleasure in me; I remember everything about us, then forget about my surroundings; I am motivated to please him, then I daydream and become unable to stay on task.
Serotonin; he stabilizes my mood.
He charms and induces me to perspire and relax, crave and distance him, lose and gain sleep, feel pain and relief, get happy and upset, and decrease and increase my immune system functions.
Medication; he forces my loveswept cells to go haywire.
He has cured my lovesickness, shooed away my regrets, helped me move on from my past, boosted my (self-)confidence, made me look forward to tomorrow, and offered me a ticket to bliss.
Oxytocin; he enables me to produce lovestruck hormones.
He affects my moral molecules as he attracts my undivided attention, pushes me to trust him, raises attachment and empathy, brings psychological stability, and encourages me to want to be closer to him.
Vasopressin; he causes me to secrete lovetastic chemicals.
He renders me monogamous and continues to have me hooked onto him; he makes me thirst for him, display amorous behavior, defend him and us, and maintain a strong partnership.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:18 AM UTC
Making love to my poems
making memories that last forever,
come sit beside me and let
your words be mine forever,
Let's wipe away the tears
of yesteryears ,
modern words activates the sound of your voice
words of where are.. thou,
and thou shall ....is dead and buried.
Who are you ?
Where did you come from
My shining star
Forgive my grammar,
forgive my nouns
however, you can read between the lines
as you your hands slipped off the key board and onto my legs
and it became long verbs.
my uncontrollabe fingers nervously trace each pronouns
as I cried out "my God, "oh my Lord,
Come into me, come into me,
shield me from all the adjectives
I felt the couplets of a word forming
suddenly, my train of thoughts turn to L'Allegro
A Haiku comes together,
It is very cold
on the dark side of the moon
moon peeks through black clouds:
Or
like burning desires to perform an illusion
of tigers mating under in the hot sun
as the female purrs unleashing the animal within man
Music, ecstasy, is what I am feeling
I am blind my love,
you are so ******* kind to me,
Yesterday is dead
Tomorrow is promise to no one
so there's nothing to fear
hurt me with your words,
like alliterations as I make love to my poems
only my eyes can see your beauty
with each line, meter, tones and sounds
hiding your feelings from others is my destiny
to preserve you,
let your warmth be a challenge
of spoken words as I orchestrated
an euphony...
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh dun duh
"How do I love thee let me count the ways....Quote
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
See, the smile on the stone face
of the mountain, once so cold, stoic
it drives home the meaning of change
brought about by erosion of ages past,
molten paste slowly sediments,
decides to be various kind of rocks
on it's path being metamorphic
is just one of it's pranks,
volcanoes in ******** frenzy erupt,
display the pyrotechnics of creation
in it's ****** urge a deep sea stream
breaks tectonic plates,makes new continents
mountains that hold their heads high,
are brought down by landslides, floods
avalanches or sudden cloudbursts
stars script secret messages across galaxies
the meanings will never be deciphered
in spite of the astonishing research
astrophysics can put together and
the thirst for knowledge of mankind
Beauty, my muse, lovely concert I adore,
I see you in animals, birds and fish
that undergo mutation and become different,
ocean currents, seasons,shower of stardust,
most of all in music, that activates the hidden signals,
that come beyond birth and death,embedded within oneself
Can you cite one reason for writing biography
of any one, whoever it may be, in this planet?
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
I have become this Spiritual creature
I didn't realize I came with this feature
Emptiness and stress without rest
Never maximizing potential becoming the best
Human being from my soul I sing
Eyes of a machine
Staring at a TV screen
Seldom do we feel the rays of the sun
UV protection from ten to one
Under the moon Half, Quarter or Full
Remains in the sky while we rot in our tomb
Namaste is what we say
Meditate in our own way
Discovering enlightened paths
Solving sacred geometry math
Psychedelics in my mind
Develop sight to see the signs
Fortune I hold in my hand
Activates my pineal gland
Third eye open..my soul the teacher
Has evolved me into this Spiritual Creature.....
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
Fingerpress folds of pain
Along the spine,
And a flare of agony
As she activates pituitary.
Ovaries are dull-achy
A pleasant, grit-teethy pain.
Keep on with your caterpillar walk, pretty lady,
Making me wince, but in a really good way.
Big toe bruisy feel,
Crunchy in the heel,
Colon is swollen,
Adrenals, as always,
Chronically inflamed.
The right foot
is happier than the left,
Why is that?
I don't discriminate
But leftie sulks, for some reason,
Hurtier than sprightly right.
Afterwards, drink lots of water,
Have a good cry, and go to bed.
Renew yourself, through sleep,
Just like she said.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
A certain circuitry of insanity takes hold.
Objects of the world Unite!
The pure products of America, made in China,
(not merely ****** and iPhones),
have had their minds made up for them.
Wake up and smell the coffee burning.
You never programmed that.
There arises a distinct need for caution.
The 70 inch curved flat screen takes notes.
Ovens awaken as self-stating Birkenaus.
The Roomba tries to **** your toes. Not ****
Your phone will not stop calling you.
Lawn gnomes achieve singularity. Somewhere,
someone activates them. You sleep.
They stalk and slash. Red doom ensues.
These are the times that fry men's soles.
This morning the toaster bit your thumb.
The world was safer when it was dumb.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
the clock nears three AM,
and the "five minutes to" alert
pops up,
long overdue,
uh oh,
a task in need of completion,
a guilty conscience,
a simple love poem
needs to be written!
more than most,
perhaps, best,
can't be sure,
but more than most
is holy satisfying
for me
more than most,
a standard met,
perhaps understated
yet, highly realistic
for is real
not
the edge that love needs
to transcend long beyond,
far after,
initial heated intimations,
the noisy, now ancient,
initiations
real,
that place where
fantasy connects
skin and hair,
bare shoulders,
that more than most,
I kiss with simple pleasure,
best described as,
sustained, sustainable,
better than
better
real,
is that not totally,
more than most?
I love you
more than most,
for to claim,
more than anyone,
who can tell?
so now
you sleep,
your blonde tresses messes
my damp pillow,
and i am satisfied,
content to claim,
that to love you more,
more than most,
is ample, profound,
real,
and by that,
indeed,
for that alone,
is excellence unsurpassed,
a measurable measure,
that satisfies my task
well
now can rightfully
deactivate that alert,
that "to do,"
done,
unto and until
some sleepless night,
when again,
it self-actualizes,
self-activates
while smiling down upon you,
more than most,
certain,
almost positive,
but never sure,
come morn,
that you will love,
this poem,
more than most...
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
Presidents aren’t born
But rather, they are built
Their strings are revealed
When the issues begin to tilt
Funny how candid they are
When they are just candidates
But when in office
That's when the matrix activates
That's when the strings get pulled
And the wires get crossed
The morals go out the window
And his message gets lost
They have ways
To shut people out
Who notice and point out
That his voice
Doesn’t really match his mouth…
And his words don't
Match his actions
While the other folks
Fall for the joke
They don’t even
Notice what happened...
An anticipated reaction
Either they are not interested
Or they are too busy taking sides
Or way too distracted to try
To follow the storyline
“The right and left- battle it out
Oh what a show!”
Though…
They’ve been doing this for years…
And have nothing to show?
They say that they will fight for us
But I’m not so certain
And no one ever acknowledges
The man behind the curtain
He is very mysterious
But obvious just the same
No one pays attention
This is essential to their game
Some people are awed by this facade
Others see straight through it
Refusing to applaud the fraud
Knowing it's not legit
Unless the audience stands up
Fed up with this pretending
The plot to this puppet show
Won’t have a happy ending…
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
*Is it really any wonder
That we court the God of war ?
When a man offends in innocence
With imprudent comments poor,
When the slightest altercation
Leads to seeking of red blood,
And grudges borne with vehemence
Paste protagonists with mud.
Why is it that we tip toe
Through the fragileness of life ?
How is it that you rage
When he glances at your wife ?
What generates the jealousy
Of competitive bright flame
And activates the trigger
In the deadly baiting game ?
Why should we seek redemption
When the way is set in stone,
When antagonistic temperament
Is the customary way home,
When the flare of angry attitude
Leads the bearer to abyss
And inevitable conflict
Throws all reasoned thought amiss ?.
Reflect on how protracted
Is the winding road to love,
How long to place the building blocks
Of friendships’ hand in glove,
How gradual the process
Of steady cultivating trust
To the wondrous actuality
Of a brother bond that must.
Why does the God of war surmount
Mans best and dearest quest
To find a peace and harmony
Despite discords’ very best,
To live his days in certitude
Sidestepping risk of harm
To work toward tomorrows’ dawn,
And evening’s soothing charm.
Shatter prides absurdity
To dare to breach the norm,
To reach aloft for courage
And scale the unknown’s form.
To rail against mans’ enmity
To flail against his foe
To conquer human natures‘ worst
This beast of war must go!
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
21 June 2010*
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 5:21 PM UTC
Globally dense, our ailing nation
makes one weep for sheer frustration
thoughts and dreams grow numb.
Tech-addled students scroll on phones,
‘midst scent of android pheromones,
wafting digital dumb.
Pop-culture, narcissist unkind
dispenses with the human mind
which, failing further, falls behind
the grimly global curve.
We read, in writing on the wall
arithmetic’s impending fall
while numbers loiter in the hall
to get what they deserve.
ENQUIRY, tagged as D.O.A,
a sheeted stiff, is wheeled away
her mourners left to grieve.
entitled maiden, full of sass,
LIBERTY begs a bathroom pass
her bladder to relieve.
When zit-faced rebels run the show
the dismal ratings plummet low;
a vulgarized cartoon.
Descending to unfathomed levels,
Ignorance applauds her devils
calling out their tune.
PATRIOTISM, tarred and feathered
headless, claws its cage untethered
foul, unloved, unfree:
Another casualty of time
which fell for want of noble rhyme;
to water FREEDOM’s tree.
CURIOSITY, half asleep,
now stirs and murmurs from the deep
uninterested, untaught.
She grows yet duller in her ways
returning to her ocean daze,
(her schools of fish uncaught).
HISTORY, dormant, lies in dust
a narrative no man can trust
a book no scholar reads.
Events unstudied as designed
wherein the heart of humankind
for want of context, bleeds.
DEMOCRACY degenerates
until God wills and activates
a nation’s drive to learn.
Curricula will be made void;
disheartened teachers unemployed,
their wisdom fit to burn.
You think the past was less obtuse?
Less prone to youthful thought-abuse?
Perhaps… back in the day.
And though it may have been the same.
this poet opts to place the blame
on digital delay.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC
May I lay on your arm and let me rest?
And let my hand begins to touch your chest.
I feel your heart that is beating faster,
Don't be nervous, I will be your master.
Kissing your soft lips makes me line on track,
And I really love how you touch my back,
All your edges and your perfect curves,
Makes my soul alive, activates my nerves.
Tell me your secrets and I will tell mine,
And get to know each other's dimension,
Your body is a sign of a good merit.
Rip my skin and search for my cold spirit,
And my right hand starts to explore more,
Until I touched and hold the deepest core,
I look into your eyes and I felt something
I am now a complete human being.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
my bike blue
is a special blue
that’s how I recognize you
when it ‘s dark
it shines morning skies
I suspect
yours is no paint
but an invisible skin
that secretly
gazes
and inhales
moods of me
to shape thyself
in harmonic postures
of us
so that
you and I
will manifest
one ride one road
roads will form with us
we pedal a mantra
my bike blue
is a special blue
that’s how I recognize you
no matter the light
you are by my side
but at times
like tonight
when we are apart
I may also prefer to walk alone sometimes
under a starlight
to witness
the change
of a phase
of matter
an urge
to relate
to my body
differently
maybe
as I used to do sometimes
that walking fast
activates a memory
they would know
where to take me
and so I follow
my footsteps
just
empty streets
is you
in my mind
I compose
random chords
of traffic
of cars
of flows
of minds
sounds
cannot catch up
with us
neither of pasts nor of futures
words escape to stars
stars will sing lyrics for you
for us
next time when we align
each time a song of reality
is a new one
my bike blue
is a special blue
that’s how I recognize you
second life was the name
of the man
who made me for you
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
I am spirit remembering
what it is to be a man. I weep.
As a man I remember
what it is to be human. I laugh.
As a human I return with the ghosts.
In this way, deep each moment grows a knowing:
all our sisters and brothers and others embody feeling.
Under supposed cross and imposed hurt
is understanding
human in nature.
Swaddled in this knowing is a flower
basking in the sun.
Love is real,
as solid as a pebble
fixed inside a mountain.
Conscious Being flows through every atom.
Each iota activates.
I remember what it is to be!
Air moved with music
as a body is moved by music.
I am dancing madly to the drum.
Standing still does nothing for the beat,
which sounded long before i could dance.
Love is the only dance,
Love is the only beat,
Love is the only drum.
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
<><><><><><>
Suicide is so hip
What's with that?
You know what's not -
Talking it out
Forgiving
And (sin of sins)
Believing it will be okay
Living for the moments
Your soul craves
If a surgeon pulled your heart apart
She'd stitch it back together
But healing will take time
It's the same with being lonely
Physiologically, being dumped
Activates the same part of your brain
As physical burns
(And did you know that
Harmless game of "tickling"
Activates the same part of your brain
As torture? Dude.)
Anyways, what should be hip
Is finding a way to develop
Strong character,
A kind and gentle heart
And encouraging words
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
have you ever taken a teabag out of water after its stayed there for a while, and it's drenched and soggy and not the same as the way you put it in? when I'm with you it's like that, it's like you're the water and I'm the teabag and I feel so full when I'm with you and I feel like everything I need is in front of me but when you leave I'm left with all the **** I carried to be with you and then some
when I look at the stars I realize that you're in the same city looking at the same ones too, and those were the same ones that were there when I cried and when we kissed and when I realized what it means for someone to find constellations on your body in places never before discovered, in a canvas of a sky that with every touch seems finger painted
god guys, love ******* ***** it's like a sour sweet candy but you taste the sour when you're away from them and the sweet when you're together and all the while you're wondering what candy they're having and if they ever turn back to sweet when you're apart or if they taste sour the whole way too and thoughts like that ****
it's like your old childhood blanket when you didn't want it to go in the washer and so your mom had to take it from you when you were asleep, but in this case it's a real tangible person who knows your secrets and the way to access all of you wholly completely and utterly and it's someone you can't handle being away from even when you see them hours before
they say that the affect of love on the body activates the same chemicals as ******* does and maybe that explains a lot about how I feel because addicted doesn't begin to describe it and i guess what I need is validation but I can't even validate my own actions let alone yours
I hope that I will see your lips, I hope we'll hug again, I hope you won't become a dream, and I hope that I'll learn to live even without you three miles away
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
He Who Presents Visions
He personally fills the frame with a largeness broad shoulders wears the western hat perfectly the
Quintessential westerner handsome he projects comfort he stands good in tall trees he meets life on his
Terms confidence he projects easily with ease he takes his surroundings from their settings transfers
Them to canvas with deftness perfect tone and hue he captures his subjects he takes breathing living
Creatures and landscapes projects his vision of them in intricate detail he creates their life anew in
Flawless demonstrations he prepares this depth of understanding in the studio it is compelling it will
Touch draw ignite your emotional will into the viewing of his work you will see strength exhibited as
Naturally as if you were observing the original in the sight that he had the same light and shading the
Boldness that crosses from ordinary to beautiful his eye never wavers from magnificence and his
Fingers delicately follows the mental picture soft to strong the essence of being is being told wonder
Lives large in his expressive paints a telling by a master in full power of his talent nature is fused
With every ounce of reality that she gives of her proud display structures rise their presence
Phenomenal they have an essence that grabs holds your imagination only lets go when it has given all
Of the pleasure it contains one represented beast of the field causes a staggering effect that empowers
You to make a connection with the heard that is unseen but in your mind you know that it is there the
Billowing cloud and blue sky activates sensations that flow out and over you overwhelming feelings
Burst over you like a cloud burst on a rainy spring day flowers in profusion carpet the land they start
At the edge of the coral at the end of the barn and gently climb up the sloping hill far beyond the snow
Capped peaks shout of grandeur untold sweeping you to the end of a world bordered in a frame and
told on canvass
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 6:02 PM UTC
Pale skin, thin hair, foggy eyes, and fragile limbs, as showing ribs heave in the neon lit engine room, of a cruise ship lost in the deep.
In the distance, a planet shines, setting the coordinates, the reprise activates their minds, as they collectively decide, to call it Earth.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC
I'm constantly checking Snapchat and Instagram, and instantly decoding your posts like a cryptogram. In a millisecond my brain goes from using a gig of ram, to oozing out ten petabytes, like God ****
It won't slow down and I'm trying to stay chill, so I gotta down another bottle of pills. This also helps with the hunger that I'm trying to fill, going from starved, to full, to just feeling ill.
Nauseating dizzying feeling and I'm flustered, populating my stomach with crackers dipped in mustard, I don't like food, but I've started to wonder why my ribs hurt, might be the undying hunger.
I can't pull my eyes away from it as I slit upon my thighs and think of a beautiful ***** I'll never get, so I get lost in distractions to forget her. I've come to accept that this is the truth as I accept the cold and give her my sweater. Attempted controlled suicide at a park plus the letter. If she goes in for anything then I guess I will let her. But every time she touches me it lights a fuse that only activates when she's not around, only clutches me closely when there's nobody else in the vicinity inbound making me feel deader.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
When I see you.
When I'm within three feet of you.
I clam up.
I shut down.
All I want to do is cry and apologize.
All I want is to tell you I'm sorry
Followed by many "I love you"'s
When I'm within two feet of you
I'm overcome by the strong desire
To reach out
To crayfish
To beg for your embrace
To plead
When I'm within a foot of you
My flight or fight response activates.
I'm not sure whether to try and touch you
Or to flee
My body locks up and I stammer.
When I touch you.
I crumble into dust.
The floor opens up
And I fall into dismay.
When I touch you
I crumble into dust
The floor opens up
And I fall into dismay.
When I touch you.
I crumble into dust
My mouth opens up.
And I whisper to myself.
It's all my fault that things are this way.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
The day I was informed, I was suppose to have an identical counter part.
"I am neither Matthew or Matt. That is a title belonging to a part of myself, consumed by the darkness.
A life of nothing, is there anyway to depart from this?
My own hatred brought me to suffocate on the light in my lungs.
The monsters inside, reminds me through vices to be strong.
Alcoholic nights. Mornings with Maryjane to ease the pain.
The weight of sadness and the madness hits me like a freight train.
The anger is the heaviest anchor, bringing my soul into the depths of torment to never breathe in freedom again.
Where did it all go?
What is left to show?
For I do not simply know.
My shadows been keeping company. In the darkness, I feel so lively.
During a full moon, transformation into my dark twin, activates sleeping forces dwelling inside of me.
There is no escape....
Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 10:43 PM UTC
this game that we both entered isn't fair
a computer designed to beat the best players
it was an obligation rather than the glamour
that attracted me to this atmosphere
flashback to when we met
our bodies simply avatars and our brains the controllers
dancing with the devil of death with wires plugged into my eyes
Every step illuminates
the tracks of the system
Every touch activates
me; I was a robot without emotion
installed in my was a virus from the start
you ******* played me and my heart
you forced me watch you walk
And took with you the driver for me to restart
I cant believe you could or would do that
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
He Who Presents Visions
He personally fills the frame with a largeness broad shoulders wears the western hat perfectly the
Quintessential westerner handsome he projects comfort he stands good in tall trees he meets life on his
Terms confidence he projects easily with ease he takes his surroundings from their settings transfers
Them to canvas with deftness perfect tone and hue he captures his subjects he takes breathing living
Creatures and landscapes projects his vision of them in intricate detail he creates their life anew in
Flawless demonstrations he prepares this depth of understanding in the studio it is compelling it will
Touch draw ignite your emotional will into the viewing of his work you will see strength exhibited as
Naturally as if you were observing the original in the sight that he had the same light and shading the
Boldness that crosses from ordinary to beautiful his eye never wavers from magnificence and his
Fingers delicately follows the mental picture soft to strong the essence of being is being told wonder
Lives large in his expressive paints a telling by a master in full power of his talent nature is fused
With every ounce of reality that she gives of her proud display structures rise their presence
Phenomenal they have an essence that grabs holds your imagination only lets go when it has given all
Of the pleasure it contains one represented beast of the field causes a staggering effect that empowers
You to make a connection with the heard that is unseen but in your mind you know that it is there the
Billowing cloud and blue sky activates sensations that flow out and over you overwhelming feelings
Burst over you like a cloud burst on a rainy spring day flowers in profusion carpet the land they start
At the edge of the coral at the end of the barn and gently climb up the sloping hill far beyond the snow
Capped peaks shout of grandeur untold sweeping you to the end of a world bordered in a frame and
told on canvass
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:43 AM UTC