I got up with a fire
in my belly
rhythm in my step
Poetry in my veins
VisionarieKindness 2015
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When the curtains fade
and there are no ques
to do it right
don’t stop dancing…
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To fill my shoes with gladness
To leap and fly
To run and never look back
To find value amongst the living…
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom– Elizabeth Appell-http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/e/elizabeth_appell.html
Recently changed kneal1 Poetry to VisionarieKindness: finding my stride-enjoy!!!
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(free google image)
Snapping at the night
drifted reflection
We were
Electric,
dreamer’s
soul stirring,
expanding,visionaries
and beautiful too…
C’mon on
and shine a little light
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Open doors to me
lover dance so gently
like summer’s heat
like silver streams of mercy
like silver honey
like healing doors
for all of me…
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Morning Breeze
brings me
Happiness
I have taken a small blogging break. It feels good in this space. Still loving life and dancing to the wind.I’m not quite sure when I’ll blog daily. After-all the wind is magical landing in my ear. Whispering to me write,dance and sing, This is me, doing my weekly Poetry…(all rights reserved2015)
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(Free google image)
His hat hung just above the tiled brow.
Formerly he wore his best,
High altered pursuit -Ivory Grey
Drinking -dusty winds
Perching, gently its blue-ish bill.
Practicing his craft on human-rubbish
Gliding his hallowed cry – eeeer.
Against ghetto ‘s, sand-dunes,war zones and cliffs too
Robotic faces shhing feathered hands
still on he came,
Proudly, shaking the bear,
Resiliently, greeting lion cubs,
Flying parallel with each blustery storm.
Protected by the universe, Mr. Sea Gull.
Today I did not follow the prompt, I’ve gone my own way. I meet a beautiful friend today and thought I’d share my feelings. National Poetry is coming to a close.I felt much pressure writing. I’ve enjoyed each fresh rhythmic line. I have much to be thankful for. Writing is my water,my glass-slippers to the ball.My healing. Writing is my friend. All Rights Reserved 2015.
Please check out NaPoWriMo here for today’s prompt if you like:
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Just like that
brown paper bag,
her ninnies began to sag.
But it didn’t make her feel
bad to have holes in both her pockets.
Neither did she feel poor,
just rubbing two nickels together,
waiting for her next out-pour.
Dancing drops in summer’s drought,
not that she had any doubt
that her girth, had given supple-supply
for every one of her babies.
And just like that,
Baby!
We’d be,
just fine.
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A thousand clouds
dance with fire
in tribes
of peace
Krissy Mosley Ministries 