My box of words is hoarded selfishly. Choosing and stockpiling each one carefully. I take inventory. I tuck them away in my little treasure box lined with memories tears and laughter. Yesterday's words are tinged aging and gnarled the edges curling. Today's words fat filled with promise. Choosing the right ones is a challenging feat not always accomplished with elegance. Copyright (C) Penny Wilson
This is the first full day of winter. My mother’s birthday. It’s been more than 25 years since she passed. But I still miss her. Happy Birthday Mom. ❤
I started to NOT post this. I thought it was sad. But missing loved ones is sad I suppose. I’m happy that she is always a part of my life. For my Mom.
The walls are permeated with the laughter and tears once shared.
I fill the room as best I can with today’s sunlight.
I open the window, but the breeze does not sweep away the past.
A life once lived clings tightly.
My fingers touch a picture frame.
Frozen in time, you cradle a child.
I can feel the love in the smile on your lips.
Your fingers gently brush the hair from my face.
Behind my eyes, I’m swept away.
I am once again, safe. Warm. Loved.
You always smelled of lilacs.
Today, your memory is as vivid as yesterday.
Other times, your face is but a faded shape in the mist.
You are always with…
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The turntable sang of freedom and exploration Summer skies were flavored with Strawberry Hill A prelude to easy nights and Purple Haze Never thinking of tomorrow Today was enough (C) 2019 Penny Wilson Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
My fingertips find their way Pulling my heart beyond the keyboard Across the years through the memories The visions behind my eyelids Another time expressed A smear on crisp white pages (C) Copyright 2019 Penny Wilson Image by jan mesaros from Pixabay
REBLOG: Please enjoy John Coyote’s Beautiful piece. If you don’t follow his blog, you should! 🙂 Enjoy!
(Beautiful faces and passionate kisses. A Poem by Coyote Poetry.) (Good to be young in heart. Willing to rebirth love and desire everyday of a life.) Beautiful faces and passionate kisses When the night is long and sleep is far away. Sweet faces appeared to awake dead passion and re-birth ghosts lost in […]
tickles from the stubble of your beard the smile at the corners of your mouth were your eyes the color of the sea? or were they rainy day grey? I forget the scent of your skin in the dark forgotten when your hand touched mine did my blood race? many things forgotten but, love the heart does not forget Copyright © 2019 Penny Wilson
REBLOG: Don’t miss Michael’s Beautiful poem!! ❤
Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind, Your fires burn bright where embers once were piled….
REBLOG: Don’t mis this beautiful piece from Heart String Eulogies. ❤
“And maybe I’ll remember the good moments. The ones spent by your side.” And maybe, after all is said and done, I’ll finally reach the end. The end of this war. This lifetime of fighting for my own right to breathe. To push forward, no matter how hopeless my circumstances. And maybe, the day will […]
The forgotten door to yesterday. The backroads and wrong turns of your youth. The place where magic was always a possibility and summers stretched forever. Behind this door lies a realm of fantasy, riches unclaimed, and misplaced dreams. The key is just under that stone to the left, hidden in a niche.
Would you use the key?
Copyright (C) 2019 Penny Wilson
*This is in response to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Thursday prompt. If you would like to get in on the fun, you can find out more about it HERE.
I loved the madness that was you Caught up Spiraling With you Drunk with it This madness Delicious madness I knew better didn't care Recklessness the order of the day I loved the madness that was you Copyright (C) 2019 Penny Wilson Image by David Mark from Pixabay
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