rain pours

un p’tit je ne sais quoi

you didn’t care if will ever rain
as long as doesn’t rain with love…
due to this, I gave to you rain…
architected, sculpted, portraited…
till I turned myself into a rain…
into a storm… into a hurricane…
in a typhoon stuffed daily for you
with my rain of stars and dreams
with my rain of laughs and kisses
with my rain of longings blowing
on you, exactly as the rain pours
for no one like you loves me wet
āœ“āœšŸ» ;ā‚Žā‚Ž
un p’tit je ne sais quoi Ā© coco

sourcešŸ“øgoogle images

Scorpion

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Untitled Notes on Writer’s Block

the blighters rock

there is silence save birdsong
and darkness save this shaded light
there’s a blank white page before me
that waits on me to write,

there are no thoughts within me
save those I have of you
how can I them in conscience fair
with meagre words imbue.

so I hear beyond the silence
and drift into the dark
to set my pen in readiness
before I make my mark.

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My Writing Buddy

Penny Wilson Writes

Here we are in the month of May of 2021 already!Ā  It goes so fast, doesn’t it?Ā Ā 

I participated in the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writer’s Month) last month.Ā  About half way through the month, I was wondering if my decision to participate was a good one or not!Ā  I did struggle making my ā€˜deadline’ on several occasions, but managed to pull something out of the ā€˜ole grey matter just in time.Ā Ā 

One thing that helped tremendously was that I found myself a writing buddy.Ā  An ā€œAccountability Buddyā€, if you will.Ā  Chuck over at The Reluctant Poet agreed to this.Ā  This was great!Ā  I knew I needed someone to poke me and encourage me to write Every Day! Chuck has become a Dear Friend and we write back & forth quite often.Ā  So it was pretty easy to fall into a routine where I would send him a sneak peek of…

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memory of bliss ~

tornadoday

when my days are swept
golden –
into all I have left
when moments
are counted for more

I shall look at these hands
and remember the ways
they warmed to your longing
as never before

when my ears have misplaced
the sound of your voice –
a melody penned
long ago

as my eyes
fill with tears –
once reflected by yours
ocean deep pools
of your soul

tho my arms be denied
the reaching around –
I will rest in the memory
of bliss

when my tongue has forgotten
the taste of your name
my lips will remember
your kiss

. . .

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