Embrace
Your sweet kisses on my lips.
Your sweet love flow into my soul.
Making me feel like I am in heaven.
With your warm body wrap around mine.
In a sweet embrace.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Your sweet kisses on my lips.
Your sweet love flow into my soul.
Making me feel like I am in heaven.
With your warm body wrap around mine.
In a sweet embrace.
I imagine that a lot of poets right now are ready to sleep. So that is the theme of the final prompt. Write a poem about sleep. What it is like to sleep, what it is like to dream, what you are dreaming about. But don’t fall asleep until you press Publish!
doubt
has quite a few synonyms,
uncertainty, disbelief, skepticism, and misgiving
in different forms
it creeps up,
when you least expect
By: KMH 2015
Once, I could predict the gender of infants before birth. If I
focused now, I could still do it. But how do you do this?
By getting to know the parents.
These days, though, I let it go. I see the flood and release it
where it needs to be. Sometimes, pretending not to know
is better, although not for myself.
Lately, I’ve been struck by certain deaths. I haven’t uttered
a word, but I see them walking around, the stones around
their necks, waiting to jump into the sea. I see them looking
around, searching for gaps between the rocks, hoping and
not hoping they’ll be noticed, their eyes straight ahead
and then, with unbelievable suddenness, jump off from the
heights, seeing only peace at the bottom of the cliff.
© Ella Wagemakers, 13.59 Dutch time (= 7.55 EST in the US)
I just can’t do it is all that I say
This doubt that I feel is here to stay
Everyone says don’t put yourself down if you try then you can
When I do I fail miserably at it so why try I’m failure of a man
This self doubt it a cancer holding me back, sometime I feel like a laying on train tracks
How do I overcome this feeling inside when all is wrong and nothings right, I will try once again and see if it’s just effort that is all that lacks
If I succeed this feeling of doubt will be banished
It will change my thought process and for success I will be famished
Ok, I missed a few
I didn’t do the fish
Fish isn’t for me
My favorite author bailed
And honestly that one possession
Turned into three
The sestina almost killed me
I gave up poetry then and there
I didn’t do the food
Diet food isn’t romantic
That creature with the cold nose
His goodbye makes me sad
Persona got ditched
Genre did too
Underwater well, that’s for fish
Fish really isn’t for me
I didn’t do visual specifically
Hope a few visuals found their way through
And the timer, wrote about the timer
forgot to set the time
All in all a good days work
And my relationship is still in tact
But slightly worn out.
The shade you provide
Protects them from the scorching sun
Your green leaves
Give them fresh breathable air
Your roots
Protect the soil from erosion
Your thick branches
Give beams to make swings
They love you
I think you know
Though they don’t say it
The safety and security
You provide is felt and appreciated.
So, why did they chop me down?
Sylvia Plath said,
“The worst enemy to creativity is self–doubt.”’
I agree,
I never thought about writing in another language
Until I have the courage to do it.
Now, I write with confidence
I’m not sure with perfection
But without a doubt
(Quote allusion 2015)
Stalking pray with practiced skill he moves through shadow.
Tonight’s meal will not come easy; It must be pried from unwilling hands.
With all his skill he approaches, looking up into human eyes he reflects back all the love he’s sent. One thought in mind; Food.
Others may kill to eat but here each meal is served with broken hearts.
Suggestion of a warm embrace, tempting on the coldest night,
Eyes that say, “I’ll fade away” torture all in sight.
And if, by chance, his slaves deny the meal that’s rightly his,
He’ll raise his voice and scratch at doors, until his food appears.
Morning
Peeks
Inside
Looks
Wondering
Can
Love
For
Words
Enhance
Ennoble
Spring
Become
Poetry
Grow
Propel
Delight
Survive