Divina Poetica

 

b08b5c1a11b3a4b35e6296d7049306e4

Spill your words onto my lips,

Those soft, silky, satin drips

That caress my soul

Like your fingertips,

As across my skin

Your voice slips

And tangles in strips

Where light and fire eclipse

The body divine in apocalypse.

 

*What can I say? Muse-kissed today. 

Advertisements

Advice From The Wicked

tumblr_lo66b1fxEG1qhaydwo1_500

Wicked I am and

Wicked I be,

Or so says all

Of the publicity.

 

But evil is

As evil does…

And you shouldn’t judge

Because

 

You never know

What’s behind the door.

You don’t know

What’s gone before.

 

Truth is never

As plain as it seems,

And people change,

Or so time deems.

 

So keep in mind that

Evil and good

Might not appear

As they should.

 

Sometimes the right thing

Can be wrong,

And sometimes the wicked

Have been right all along.

While Watching the Rain

 

oregon 2

Forest leaves fall

Into a nocturne lake

Reflecting the deep waters

Of a celestial sea

Merging to meet

The purpling vineyard horizon

That brightens basalt bark

And Oregon coastal sands

Kissed by the pearlescent waves

Of a winter ocean.

 

*I came up with this poem while knitting on a shawl on a rainy day listening to Moon by George Winston-the name of the colors of the yarn I am using are in the poem: Forest, Nocturne, Deep Waters, Vineyard, Basalt, Oregon Coast, and Pearlescent. Everything-yarn, words, music-joined together in one peaceful, harmonic moment. Proof that inspiration can come from anything.