The Scarborough Fair…
The Scarborough Fair… One ” I told the white cliffs of Dover. My wars are over and I have forgotten my face, my voice, my home . I have become a stranger.” Two … Continue reading
Gypsy soul…
Gypsy soul… Once, I walked in the clouds, The highest Honduras mountains, I stood upon. I was a free man. Once, I danced with the Pacific, the Winter storms taught me. We… Continue reading
Lady of the lake…
Lady of the lake ——————————————————————————————- We loved the weeping willows trees by the lake, we loved the month of July and August. Once I wanted death and my lady of the lake, whispered… Continue reading
My Ojibwa prayer…
My Ojibwa peace prayer… “I burned white sage by Lake St. Clair, I asked the lake, the sky, the earth and the green. Please heal my world, please send the caress of peace… Continue reading
The circle dance- the dance of friendship…
The circle dance…. I have danced often the circle dance at Native Americans Pow Wows. The circle dance had many meanings. “The leader called to the people, the Ojibwa children begin the circle… Continue reading
Ravishing beauty dancing alone…
Ravishing beauty dancing alone… We will masquerade as many people. We will be hopeful and filled with dreams when youth is our advantage. We will strip to bare essentials and dance fearless and… Continue reading
Drinking alone…
Drinking alone… Once in Bosnia, A beautiful Gypsy lady told me. Love isn’t your strength. You are cold hearted bastard and you will die alone if you don’t learn. You don’t walk alone.… Continue reading
Fuck you…
Fuck you… Bad ass and beautiful girl told her Bloody Mary. Fuck you all and I ordered three fingers of the Johnnie Walker. She looked at me. She asked me. What are doing… Continue reading
Be quiet dear lover, Quédate…
Be quiet dear lover/ Quédate … The sky is grey and the sun is hidden behind the rain clouds in the early morning. You and I had traveled to Palma, Spain. The Germany Winter… Continue reading
The Tale of a Broken Ballerina
Originally posted on RealStuff by RealMe:
Photo by Danielle Reese on Pexels.com A Dancer’s Weep ? Handwoven lace, spun from a magical spider’s web fashioned her posture; veiled were her dreams, old lover’s…