Afternoon

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

Art by Steve Hanks

Horses hooves

in the lane

outside my window

sheep bleating

in the field

billowing clouds

white on blue.

.

I sit here

day dreaming

music playing

tea steaming

and a long list

of things to do.

.

And wanting

and wanting

and wanting

you.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Steve Hanks. She looks nothing like the wanted one, but it is a lovely painting.

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Four Parts of the Day

Source of Inspiration


Dawn awakens from slumber
Returning from mystic travels
Soul joins my body
I am at peace

Day filled with life
Hustle, bustle, scurry, run
Taking time to know
I am filled with joy

Evening slows my rush
Lakeside sunset beckons me
Reflection shows me all
I Am the I Am

Night gives sweet repose
Other dimensions call me
Body sleeps, soul travels
I merge with All

*****************

Today in recognition of the number 4, several poems I post today will be 4×4 poems, i.e., four lines with four words each. This first one has four stanzas to acknowledge the four seasons but 4×4 poems do not require four stanzas.

Four, a strong symbol found throughout nature and cultures, is the symbol of wholeness and university, a symbol that draws all to itself.

Ovid, “Four Ages of the World,” said that the fourth age was: Iron, with treachery, violence, greed, deceit…

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Be Loyal

Writing With An Open Heart

She wanted to be loyal to her heart,
So she stopped holding back,
And let her words flow.

As the layers of denial started peeling away,
She found there was a lot more going on,
Than her words described.

She stopped pretending as if she wasn’t angry at them,
And that their lies didn’t hurt her.

That was the only way to release them,
And stick to the things that made her heart happy.

©Zeina A.G

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Fandango’s Provocative Question #119

What is Your answer to this question????

Paperkutzs

Provocative Question #119 by Five Dot Oh

Question

What is the most valuable lesson you’ve learned in life and who did you learn it from?

The lesson that comes to mind is one that I learned when I started my first job at 16 years old. There was not one person that I learned this from. It was learned from a group of teenage guys that I worked with on different occasions as the only girl stocker.

I had been working for several weeks about three nights a week and weekends. I was stuck having to clean both the bathrooms every night while the guys did dust mopping it and other such chores.

This got really old really fast. One evening I walked into work and and received my list of chores for the night. Once again I saw that I was on bathroom detail.

I was not happy…

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Pall

Whispers of a poet's heart

You wore me out then wore me down So, I wished you away, now you’ve gone Such vile things we say without a thought Forgetting injurious words can’t be undone Often, we lose those things we love most I understand loss and lost all too well now Transported within a blink of an eyelash No taste of joy dared enter my mouth That sudden course of shear bitterness Would’ve devoured it in less than a minute I shuddered as I reluctantly swallowed News of reality as to what had happened Tears broke from my sadden eyes in horror And in a disbelief of what I was hearing This is not at all what my heart ever wanted I’m so appalled if God listened that excerpt Out of all the things my ignorance has muttered I know I don’t have that kind of power myself I’ve affirmed it myself time and…

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Conventional magic

Whispers of a poet's heart

 When forever, slips away  
 In love and everything  
 We’re left, as a broken mess
 And nothing more to believe in  
 
 My heart has been shattered  
 A time or two, and too often  
 When all that really mattered
 Left me behind, unapologetically  
 
 Since when does love require  
 Loving self first, above all others  
 And since when does forever  
 Only last a little more than a day
 
 I find it eerie these days, we only see  
 Love as blame…for broken dreams
 
 Poet of the Light © 2020
 
 
 
 
 
 

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