Her name was
the brightness of her eyes, the scent of her warm skin,
the strength in her arms.
My cheek on her breast.

Her name was
the brightness of her eyes, the scent of her warm skin,
the strength in her arms.
My cheek on her breast.
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Right before the rain, the cat came, slinky soft,
curving around the corner of the house, arching a greeting to my ankles.
The clouds waltzed and tangoed across the horizon to the arms of the sun –
they danced and this is how it started.
The maples decided to give it a whirl,
little by little the lilacs and currents joined, ducking and bending each branch and leaf.
Winging away were a robin, a sparrow,
a goose or two, and a cardinal.
Rich! what-cheer, cheer, cheer! purty-purty-purty-purty
After the rain – plum blossom – sweet and heavy on the breeze
and I could swear I heard the earthworms, glistening through the grass roots.
Lilac gratitude goes to Simon from the Lawless Poetry group on Facebook.
reach your goals discover your creative mind
dinonwane txa rena di fepa bana ba mmu gomme di a tanta e bile di na le maatla kgogedi
"For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern" -- William Blake
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
Book reviews of mainly modern & contemporary fiction
Dark Ambient Journalism
Phil Legard
Where writing comes to life.
Astral Lucid Music - Philosophy On Life, The Universe And Everything...
If you choose to read it, you have no one to blame but yourself.
the literary asylum
Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV
Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever
My beekeeping bumbles
Alex Markovich. 40 y.o. Russia. Author (sci-fi, philosophy, comedy). Playwright. MarkovichUniverse AT gmail DOT com
Poetry, short essays and other work showcased by a Scientist, Philosopher, and Adventurer. Posts on Monday and First Fridays.