Stories my grandmother told me.
Originally posted on Zizywrites:
My grandmother is an avid story teller. She has the gift of describing events in a way that you get the perfect picture. As such, I love listening to…
Originally posted on Zizywrites:
My grandmother is an avid story teller. She has the gift of describing events in a way that you get the perfect picture. As such, I love listening to…
My Winter love A Poem by Coyote Poetry Cold days seem to bring people closer. My Winter love. I whispered your sweet name in the twilight of the midnight hours. My sweet dreams… Continue reading
She told me. Love demand payment. Perfect beauty. Wearing Summer dress of white. Her soft shoulders showed tempting kiss and caress. She knew she had my attention. I watched her sun-kissed legs of… Continue reading
Originally posted on eatartdaily:
How beautiful the flowers How beautiful the stems of the flowers And the leaves on the stems How beautiful of course and the petals And the seeds inside the…
Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective:
I am playing with knives again sharpening them lovingly against brown leather strap admiring the way hair splits cleanly upon the well-honed edge (Christine E. Ray) Listen!…
Parable of Celia She sat alone by the peaceful lake. Her pale legs and bare feet being sun-kissed by the late Spring sun. She was wearing a sun-dress of white showing… Continue reading
I’m no-one and you are everything A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words I’m no-one and you are everything I bleed everyday for people who have no concern for me. I work and… Continue reading
I was condemned I was looking for the wide open road and some kind of freedom. She sat alone on a barren road on the back road of Texas outside of Fort… Continue reading
Free-falling Once we were the crazy ones. We believed in love and we believed in forever. We were sweet Summer red wine and discoverer of new and unknown places. I remember… Continue reading
Dear Monterey The kind Gods took me from war to you dear Monterey. I joined wars to try to die the proper death. Suicide, I couldn’t do. War didn’t want my death.… Continue reading