My vintage life, Painted black & white… A thousand shades From me to you. As I put the pen down Words come alive, Knitting dreams of themselves A safe haven for two. Do you feel my trembling fingers, As I slip the key around your neck? Bathing in warm memories, I washed away frantically…… Continue reading Black & White…
Soft eyed promises, I no longer believe In mere good fortune!
Daisy bloom, Pretty one, Kiss on your cheek From the evening’s gloom. Porcelain skin, Soft carnation, you sound Like a boy’s dream Come true. Still the smell of Sorrow runs in your thin hair. What is it, in your eyes? Doleful doll, melancholic darling, Your silent pout Is deafening… Via today’S Word of…… Continue reading Forlorn porcelain…
The birth of day, stillest of times. Still, the lack of you breaks all my best rhymes…. Blank new page there only to fill, but without your presence I can’t find the very will… The sun goes up as it always will rise. And I hope I’ll find the path to being wise……… Continue reading Birth of day…
Poor withered heart so full of gloom, it spills from your stitches. Little dove, dear love bird your will to fly itches…
Unmemorable sight, miserable delight! Regrets inked deep in her bruised soul. No exit in view no more hint, no more cue. Her heart, a blackened piece of coal… Out of tears, rocking fears. Just waiting for the final sound of the gong. Spreading wide wings, shadow growing. In a ruffle of feathers letting out her…… Continue reading Swan song…
Fendu, mon coeur de porcelaine. En mille et un ‘’je t’aime’’ Mille et un regrets, éparpillés, papillons de tendresse aux ailes arrachées…
My love for you is well beyond lips touching, and sweet little nothings, whispered to a shivering ear… Beyond sacred promises, oaths and vows… It has no boundaries, follows no timeline, knows no rule! My heart sings a song of its own… Your name, perfect chorus to my Gaelic lullabies. Oh Precious, my Love…… Continue reading Oh Precious…
You build a cage, a crochet razorblade barbwire tight web… Your spider legs waltzing on the intricate maze. Not listening to the sun rising… Setting… Rising again over the crimson horizon. You weld, stitching hermetic steel blankets around your weakened heart… Monochromic Fabergé egg holding sore unspoken words. You peek one last time, fake one…… Continue reading Volatile…
I am the child Of Cold. Tight Knitting of the four Zephyrs. Winter Flows through My veins, I’m only Alive in the cold November rain. Crowned Ice Princess.. My kingdom For one caress of Your Icelandic breeze. My kingdom, if You please…
Cyranny's Cove 