The Tale, part 1
She was a beacon of felicity
A gaze of alluring mystery
Tickling the molecules of thy being
Releasing endorphins; freeing
A delight, weather light or night
Tantalizing in voice and sight
Catching breath - exhale, inhale
Thy poet’s heart, a bleeding tale
The Tale, part 2
Etched on the bark, a memory left behind to be the sign for the future prospects of love
Mind absent, under the shade of a tree, a poet sits and writes from the heart, so it be
"I, for thee, will do anything, should it make you happy."
Love or lust, a trust that that evil hasn't gotten the best of us
Yearning, when the feeling of ignited passion is deserted
Jilted, leaving future prospects with a poet languid of their time
Unique, a memory or moment flashes behind my eyes
Reminisce, simple bliss that I miss; one amongst many on the list
Adhering to the practical, a place of comfort; so desolate from the world
Chasing hopes and wishes, a dreamer by design, with a fragile state of mind
Karma’s beautiful balance, carving a future forged from his feeling and past
Obscurity, dwelling plains for the tale of a poet; his heart longs
About the Creator
James Fristik
Hobby writer since I was 11 years old, with a passion for poetry and short stories. Grew up in a small town that I found a home in, and enjoy the quietness of my nature engrossed life. Lover of animals and owner of two black labs.
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The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Authorabout 11 hours ago in Fiction
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