Krissy Mosley Ministries

 The stillness of water mimics the blue birds crackle.

She wrestled spring on her hips.

Aggressively painting sun-stained orange sometimes fiery-red.

Salivating with power on her tongue.

Blinking ,colliding two thoughts toward the sea of purpose.

Rolling down windows ,breaking into the attic to re-invent a voice of her own.

Poet Krissy Mosley.

 The awkward walking frogs came to greet me.

Leaping, and flying into my swamps 

Dancing in mud pies ,

Jet landing fruitflies shared a sting so sweet.

God’s earthlings’

without fret.

Sitting,rumbling,beating’

Live now….

 

 

Midnight Air,

the orange blackness;

rode upon a white horse.

Laughing tears.

Speaking in unknown tongues.

The wind grew angrily.

Peacefully,

moving brick and gravel.

She gave out colds to the little ones without heart.

She sat on the skin old men.

A dream on fire;

don’t think that my dreams have burned down.

I was not selected.

I’ll try a little harder.

Hoard all disappointment to the left.

Retrieve my soul

Teach my Soul to Dream

Poet Krissy Mosley