If I Let You In…


If I let you in, would you guard the door?

If I held you tight, would you hold my heart?

If I bared my soul, would you keep it’s secrets?

If I held your hand, would you hold mine?

If I  let you in…

Would you walk beside me?

Copyright (C) 2017 Penny Wilson

Play it Again


door_to_nowhere_by_grdcityboy

**I came across this in my archives from 2014 while I was digging around for something and thought, “Damn! I LIKE that!”  🙂 I thought you might like to have a look at it today, just in case you missed it way back then.  I hope you enjoy this piece.  

Look at you, sitting there.  Blinking.  You’re daring me to defile your crisp, white page, aren’t you?

Look at your one straight line, mocking me.  You look back at me in defiance.  I hear you!  Your taunts.

Continue reading “Play it Again”

The Threshold


Doorway-to-my-soul-500x375

I saw it just on the other side of the meadow.  The sun was in the east, yet it did not shine here.

Carefully, I made my way across the dew laden grass.  I didn’t dare blink, lest it disappear.  Ignoring the chill of my bare feet, I approached as quietly as I could.

Was this it?  It had been so long since I’d seen it, I wasn’t sure.  Sometimes it would appear just on the edge of my peripheral vision, vanishing when I looked directly at it.  Other times it was like a warm hug, enveloping my entire being.

There has been a time when The Threshold was within me, barely restrained, bursting at the seams to get out and into the light of day.

Standing before it, I reached out a tentative, trembling hand.  What would it hold this time?  What magic lay on the other side?

I took a deep breath and stepped across The Threshold.

The Cursor


door_to_nowhere_by_grdcityboy

Look at you, sitting there.  Blinking.  You’re daring me to defile your crisp, white page, aren’t you?

Look at your one straight line, mocking me.  You look back at me in defiance.  I hear you!  Your taunts.

You don’t think I’ve got it in me, do you?

Some days, your constant, unwavering blinking is enough to drive me mad.

On these days, you bar the door, unyielding, to the bliss that waits for me beyond.

Then there are those enchanted days that I fall, head first, right past you.  I enter through the door that you hold the key to so tightly.  I pass the blinding white of your page, where the release of the written word is all…

Time stands still for me in these moments.  I am transported to the corners of my imagination.  Or I wander through the fields of my past; where nothing and no one exists unless I want them to.

This power is what I thirst for, beg for, need.

You bar my way.