Seems I am on a poetry kick this week.
It's the whole artist thing,I guess . Once a creative soul always one. Whether they are good are not is not even the point to most artistic things because all art is subjective because it's. ...duh art. But that's for a time when I can speak more indepth about such things .
Summers morning breath guides the dew from my hand
Fluttering to the ground like butterflies released from their prison
It's the whole artist thing,I guess . Once a creative soul always one. Whether they are good are not is not even the point to most artistic things because all art is subjective because it's. ...duh art. But that's for a time when I can speak more indepth about such things .
Summers morning breath guides the dew from my hand
Fluttering to the ground like butterflies released from their prison
The air blistering my skin as I rise from my scented bed
I am silent in my mid days brunch
Content to closed eyes
A soul still unhealed,wrapped in tattered bandages
Waiting patiently for careful hands to hold it near
A mind as yet ,in deepest slumber
Awaking with the cool breath and tip toe of fingertips
Eyes opening ,the haze burning clear
Pale lips blush as the breath of newness escapes its guilded cage
Seeking only the days new kiss
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