Friday, July 22, 2016

Moving!

I'm moving the entire collection over to Autumn's Twilight

I hope to see you there.

And don't forget, I post frequently on G+  so stop by and say hello.


Wednesday, July 6, 2016

O'Why

O’why shall a few good words drop
From chiseled lips 
Create such a stir 
In the soul of the forsworn? 

You, my good Sir
Have create a storm
Upon placid waters.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Fallen Angel

No on tells how hard it is,
falling from heaven.
Ripped away from all that Glory
falling down in dusky lands
full of life
and equally full of death.

No one tells how hard it is,
to choose to fall, 
to leave it all behind.
No one tells why. 

No one tells why
the angel fell. 
What temptation could mortal life be?
What the taste of love could do?

No one tells.
No one knows where the angels fell.
No one knows the angels that walk among us. 
No one knows how hard it is to be apart from Glory.

Fallen angels know. 
Oh, they know. 
They know how sweet love is.
They know,
Oh, they know. 

No one tells how hard it is,
to stand apart.
Separated from Glory
for the sake of love.

Oh, they know.
Oh, they know.

Traveling Through North Carolina

Somehow,
you were with me as I traveled.
Down long roads
as blacktop speed by
You were with me. 

My thoughts turned towards you
as iron to a lodestone.
I smiled. 

Drawing in deep, hard
looking to find cool water emotions
only to find a boiling cauldron 
carefully I picked them out.

Wetting each with soft rose petals,
Took aim and left rain pink fluffiness 
and felt you rise up. Buffered. 
Shelled. Hard. Against me. 

Cracks appear in me yet I pull deep.
Finding every little shadow hiding pink,
I pull and braid these threads, tattered and torn.
I snip and tear and fill up my cup.

With a wide sweeping toss, I laugh
as pink glitter rains down. 
May your heart be filled.
Receive the love so freely given. 
So hard won. 

What is Innocence?

What is Innocence?

I own all the roses. Did you know that? Guess not. It was something I decided long long ago. They used to make me smile. Until they made me cry. 

I had given my roses away. I wept bitter tears of memories, of lost things, things that never were, hopes abandoned. I turned my eyes away hiding from them. They haunted me deeply.

One morn I found myself in a field of roses. I could not hide from them. I choose to look, to stop and I considered my choices. I took back my roses. Now I can look at them without weeping. I appreciate them once more. I stop and smell the heavenly scent. 

It is different now when I look at them. We all deserve love, each and every one of us. Even when the thorns prick us and tear our skin.