Posts
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The Rhythm of Optimism
Music fills my ears,
Pulsing through me,
Running through my blood along with my blood,
Synching the rhythm with my heartbeat.
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I Want to Write
I want to write,
To let my words pour from my fingertips,
To allow my imagination to run free,
To gift my ideas to others,
To simply put pen to paper.
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Gardening My Story
I stare at the words in front of me,
The blank space below them,
The keys beneath my fingertips,
The possibilities I could bring to life.
Story lines bud in my mind,
But I hold back from letting them blossom,
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A Glimmering Pool of Inspiration
A bubble of light rests atop the water,
Glimmering and glinting across the lake.
It’s a pocket of sunshine,
A pillow of glowing hope,
A pool of life.
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The Orchestra of Fall
Autumn leaves flutter around my head,
The color popping in the chilly,
Swirling air.
The veins stretch out,
Delicate within the leaves.
They connect,
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A Pathway of Hope
Bits of sunshine peep through tree branches,
The rays cascading over the glimmering water.
The reflected light forms a pathway,
A trail towards the sun.
Loves
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musings of an unrefined philosopher
I am a poet. I take the words and I turn them on their heads until the juice runs out. It is red and sweet, like strawberries. I sit cross-legged on lilypads, watching meaning watercolor itself onto the pond. I rust like clockwork in the rain.
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Cameron Winter
1)
I think that when he looks at pianos,
The keys are stained and worn in
With grooves and dents,
In the shapes of his fingerprints,
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Weeping Willows
The weeping willow shimmers, the water droplets gleaming in her sunlit hair.
A dryad floats above her, in the air.
They unify, becoming one.
In Summer, the Willow cries with joy, enjoying the sun.
