I touch you lightly
With my thoughts
Your heart is near to mine
Caressed by hands of love
My love
Lips to lips, sweet, gentle kiss
Tracing the reality back to my heart
I roll over, and the moment takes its escape.
Some days, the time slips by so fast, without notice, or demand from another, until the day is done. Riddle me true, how can this be, the keeper of time seems to be quite behind.
I read some words the other day, I wish I could remember exactly what they said. The thing I remember about them was that they were like a warm and comforting wrap for a tired soul. It was such an effective use of words. I can still feel the love of them. This free spirit that leaves words of love, encouragement and touches places in your soul, his very absence orphans the happiness of many, myself included.
Colliding thoughts embrace my heart
Caressing touches linger upon my soul
Holding fast, the memory
Of
Once upon a time
Allowing the image of dreams to come
Then drifting away before I can see
Today is no different than any other day
Only the pieces of the game have changed
The beauty of life never fails to awe me. Breathe deeply. The beginning of my day is unfolding, right before my very eyes to see. Inhale the magic.
I take it all in, the words, the pictures, and the feeling of love, not always know what to do with it, so I toss it down, spin it around and make it speak to me. It's magic. I just know it is. Can't you feel it running through your soul? Sometimes it helps if you turn it and look at it a different way.
They want to be picked. They yearn to be loved. Shouldn't we all want to be? There must be a flower. #alwaysaflower
Not every picture is new, but, some days, it is fun to use them in a different way, hoping the results will be different, that perhaps it will say something different. I guess what I really want to say is some days I come on here and I love it and other days, it is a little less exciting, but, I still love it. Just like so many things in life, you won't miss it until it's gone. There were flowers posted, to color our world. From me to you, eclectic and true.
All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.
It’s my way. I walk out to the deep end of the page and dive right in.
The Naming of Cats
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
TS Elliot
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