Resurrection

 Lambs in Spring Little white balls of beautiful fluff, Bouncing and prancing and that kind of stuff. Baaing and whimpering here and there Sometimes they’ll do nothing but stop and stare. Crying for mother on a lovely spring day, Mother comes running; decides to stay. Bounding and twisting round and round, Looking for something no … More Resurrection

Solo

Solo Upon her comfort Perch she sits, Gazing out to Horizons golden- Veiled, and longing For the gilt touch Upon her furrowed brow. Not so far, the flight ~ But, ah, so Alone. The nest now but empty, A cagéd prison Of her untested fear. But, the sun ~ The sun does so beckon And … More Solo

Again

Free Write Friday with Kellie Elmore. Time and place scenario. You suddenly find yourself standing alone on an unknown sidewalk in an unknown place. It’s night and snowing and the only other person around is walking away from you…. ~*~ Again I’ve been here before In this place Alone. A back turned. Abandoned. A swell … More Again

Sink or Swim

Sink or swim? A choice I, And I alone, Must make. Treading water Tires the more I delay. Clouds of confusion Hover and rain Down their tears Upon these Restless waters That drown My spirit. A dry, distant horizon Hints at light and Beckons, and still I delay. Oops … there’s a shark. ~*~ This … More Sink or Swim

The Soup of My Soul

What it is to feel the weight of change. Every fibre of my being in a shift. Energy flits and flies from Head to toe. Takes my breath away; Gives it back. Breathe … Moving through another layer Self-doubt waves in my Direction. “Remember me?” it yells, Desperate for my attention While desperately I push … More The Soup of My Soul

Trust

~*~ A precious, fragile gift To you, from me. Unseen to the eye, Yet ever present in the heart. Handle with care. If you break it, Don’t come back for more. ~*~ My response to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday challenge for this week. Yes, I know it’s Sunday. 😉 Thanks for visiting … Dorothy … More Trust

Winter’s Field

~*~ In Winter’s barren, snowy field I stand, My tender heart gripped tightly in his icy hand. His frosty breath across my naked soul doth blow, Leaving in its numbing wake a frosted, ruddy glow. * I didn’t mean to stand in Winter’s field so bare. When first I stood it blossomed green and lovely … More Winter’s Field