Wrote a series of (almost) haikus yesterday because it was that kind of day. In my self-important way, I figured I’d share them. You’re welcome. :)~ — Good Morning Open eyes I am brimming A ray of sunshine * Paperwork — Sheaf of words piles high Miles of work, oh my * Body of work …
My mind is all over the place lately (I’m beginning to think black moods are just part of being a writer). The bad thing is my creativity is suffering. So, I guess I’ll take a few days off. Here’s some more poetry. If you want a story, check out the tabs above. Book Reports is …
A few haikus (10-14 syllables) — I question, I’m dependent, And never quite sure * A flash of a breast The glint of metal. Pierced * River running deeper Than men plumb. Undiscovered * I feel motionless. Stuck in neutral Now moving backwards * Dangerous desire! Would you let me Sate my need on you?
April is National Poetry Month. I considered skipping it, but figured I’d sprinkle a little poetry through the blog this month to honor the occasion. — On lips High cheeks A sweet hue New and lush It paints pictures Makes promises Hints at innocence To capture To keep And reinvent With each new touch Petal …
A poem for Easter. Words from The Sunday Whirl. — Life to me Dimly see Lost I be Have been to me Lock, stock Rusty key A pit to stand Drowned I am A rescuing hand! Please An offering man? Lamb, silent lamb And then He And then I am After Him A petal bend …
A long time ago I made an attempt at an erotic paranormal piece. I stopped writing it because I wasn’t sure it was worth continuing. Heidi mentioned writing something vampire related to me the other day. Of course, I enjoy a writing challenge and a prompt of any kind so I said I’d see what …
Something I wrote this week. I enjoy sharing my unedited musings with you. Part of me wishes I could craft perfectly written stories that grab you by the throat, but sometimes I write because I like the way something feels. That’s enough. Mature content! Reader discretion is advised. — A taste Of my honey I’d …
A little afternoon poetry prompted by the The Sunday Whirl. — As I traverse sunny streets I think of you Your shadow walks beside me, your memory an apparition The march of time gone by echoes like the tap of my high heels on cobblestone The whistle of an arriving train reminds me that things …