How long have I waited
for a kiss to my heart?
How long had I settled
for lips pressing upon lips?
Watching lovers on celluloid
Cursing the fiction and the fantasy
that precipitated yearnful dreams
Dreams that died a day at a time
to the mechanics of sex
Violation not volition
And then… Magic
A new path
A new dream
A new choice
Of yearning excitement
Finally a kiss
A real kiss
A kiss of the soul
A kiss that felt like home
How long had I waited
for a kiss to my heart.
photo by Lalo via Unsplash
Through choppy seas and misty winds
Take flight despite the drag on your wings
For the song of life is yours to sing
Though the path be dark
If you fail you face the shark
Yet of the skies you are the king
Defy the gail to paint the sky
The tides may change yet fly on high
Let the angels sing to the beat of your zing
In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales: Week 148 challenge.
Title credit goes to Richard Bach. The picture reminded me of his book by the same name.
Climb the rocks, Swim the tides, Reach for the elusive beacon light;
Searching for something you may find, something you may never find;
At the bottom of your mind, in the depths of the sea, truth or a figment of memory;
In response to Sonya’s The Three Line Tales, Week 134 challenge, based on the provided photo prompt.
My beauty preserved for another’s gratification.
My heart hardened from flagellation.
Woman for eternity; Human but in brevity.
In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales: Week 128 challenge, based on a photo by Sharon McCutcheon via Skillshare
I set out to walk
where it is quiet and clutter free.
Alas! Even up here, I face man’s debris.
In response to Sonya’s 116th Three Line Tales challenge, inspired by a photo by NASA
Crank up your whining
drown out my thoughts
spare me no stillness to ponder my lot
Crank up your neediness
consume all my time
leave me no moments to feel my fatigue
Crank up your selfishness
decimate my self respect
no courage should I have to raise my head
Crank up the adrenaline
be the master of my life
Alas! there is glory in lording over the dead
Habitat is shrinking and food is rare
Necessity trumps nature, in change is welfare
They’ve started to hunt in packs, even the polar bear
In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 98 challenge, based on a photo by Caterina Sanders via Unsplash
In response to Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge, a humorous take on the seasons four…
Hot days are past
Winter is here
Frost Giants aren’t real
But sleet’s a real fear
We rake leaves no more
Instead we get to shovel snow
The lakes are filling
The flowers start to bloom
A burst of colour
No more winter gloom
But good days pass fast
and sun’s about to blast
Great ball of fire
Even without budging
I still do tire
Will all the perfumes of Arabia
not camouflage this odor of mine!
The trees are shedding
making a really pretty mess.
Too bad I cant say the same
about the shedding of my tress.
Tis the perfect season for my bones old.
Its not too hot, and its not too cold.
Every day the sun would rise and force him out of his procrastination.
Just one day wont you let me rest, would be his daily lamentation.
Trapped in a hospital bed, counting each sunrise and sunset, he now waits for his salvation.
In response to Three Line Tales, Week 95 challenge based on a photo by Tobias Keller via Unsplash
raging breaking receding
clinging dragging groaning
again and again and again
In response to the Three Line Tales, Week 93 challenge, based on a photo by Alex Iby via Unsplash