I heard the music
in the words
that flowed from the rivers
of the tongues
of the soon to be
determined youth
who twisted in
ecstacy to the
shuffling feet
of joy . . .
lets dance !

The beach , sea gulls and surf

The mountain , the hike and view

The wheatfields , waving seas of grain

The moonlight , on cold desert sand

The aligators , sunning on the river bank

The fireflies , amongst the evening shadows

The mustangs , running wild and free

The campfire , listening to the cry of the wolf

Golden fall leaves , and the silence of detachment and acceptance

Life , as it was , is and will be

Sometimes I write to exhale,
sometimes I write to release the deep grunge that cultivates
within my Gothic mind.

I am like a black Rose,
my darkest night's are when
I bloom in my personal gloom.

Upon the ink I scratch across the page comes stitches of poetry;
sowing what I reap,
growing what I think.

With patchwork of poetry,
I slowly weave my tapestry
of words.

Sometimes I write to free my
expression, its like a caged bird
begging to be released.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton