Darling my dreams of
the sea ocean spray
swiftly carried me
your words of adoration.
Almost accidentially
I heard the whispers of
winsome woes,
your love.
If indefinite impossibilites
shall keep caverns
between us,
then I shall patiently
practice pensive
meditation
until we meet.
Photo by Carlos Aguilar on Unsplash
And I saw you the other day in the shades of the silhouette night wearing your disguise in the cover of your perfect smile
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah, ckonfab.com, and afflatuz.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Even when we know where we are going, the path can be circuitous. Detours, roadblocks, washouts, and fallen bridges block the direct path. The going isn’t easy. We find ourselves unprepared, short on supplies, lacking the right password, and despair threatens to consume the last of our resolve. We cling to hope’s faint light and push forward.
Having goals is imperative. I compare the path to Joseph Campbell’s structure of the hero’s journey. The goal is set, we answer the Call to Adventure, travel the Road of Trials, descend into the Abyss, experience the Supreme Ordeal. I know the story isn’t complete, everyone is waiting for our hero to prevail against the odds.
Where are you on your hero’s journey?
_________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Come read Nikki’s great romantic post
Sitting alone at night
Late
Mind slowly drifting
To that beautiful place
He dreams of her
Kissing her soft lips
The scent of her long hair
Falling everywhere
Down her back
Her body close to his
Whispering
Like the scent of her coconut kiss skin
Glistening
Supple
Delicate is she
Ruffle socks
Below the knee
Cute bows
Glittery toes
Like an angel in the dark
Illuminating his heart
Fireworks explode in his head
Taking his breath away
Everyday
The tone of her voice
Sensual
He screams her name
Never having a choice
He has to have her
Tonight in his dreams
Copyright (c) 2020 Nichole Sulpizio – All Rights Reserve
When your thought dwells my mind, an innocuous smile often crosses my lips
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Shantanu Baruah, ckonfab.com, and afflatuz.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
“We have forgotten how to be good guests, how to walk lightly on the earth as its other creatures do.”
—Barbara Ward
The Painted Lady does not dream of fleeting fame
when flitting from flower to flower,
instead she savors every delicious sip
as she lingers amongst colorful blossoming bowers.
The honeybee does not seek righteous glory
for his life’s work gathering golden pollen
as he disperses the tiny grains to our crops
and creates amber rivers of flowing honey.
The majestic trees did not ask to be
the fallen heroes of this mistreated planet
yet indeed they deserve this prestigious honor
for they purify the very air we breathe
and grace us with their magnificence.
Author’s Note: For more information on pollinators, please visit pollinator.org and on how trees make a difference, please visit nwf.org
A night on the town
Oh, no, not for me
I’d rather stay in
Catch a flick on TV
Kick off my shoes
Recline in my chair
No make-up at all
Nor care for my hair
Grab a bag of chips
Munch til I’m content
Next, find the ice cream
On this, I’m hell bent
©2020 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Image by Michal Jarmoluk from Pixabay
I hate you, I love you
In intoxicating dreams, I see you dear Elena. I repeat the memory of us. Your lover leaving you with me and he told me, “keep her busy,” and he rushed to new territory to explore. You wrapped your legs over my lap, and lay your head upon my shoulder and whispered. “You are the only one who worship and love me. Please Johnnie. Don’t run from me. Please come and stay with me. I’m alone all day. Every afternoon. I whispered a secret wish. You would appear at my door. Your adoring eyes making me feel perfect and beautiful. I need someone to make me feel sexy and wanted.”
In real life, we…
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The Reluctant Poet 