A Writer’s Lover

oh but you’ll never hear the words you read in books

when you fall in love with a writer.

the words you read are more often than not,

never spoken out loud.

 

these words you read,

they only speak volumes in the whirling mind of your writer,

and if you fail to understand that,

your writer can only write in protest.

 

 

Featured photo from getdrawings.com

 

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Help! Is Love a Decision or Not?

Hello there lovely readers!

I would very much love to hear your opinion on the topic: love is a decision, yes or no?

This is because we will be having a debate about this tomorrow already, and I am more than eager to know what your stand here is.

For my group and I’s three main points, here they are:

1. You do not choose who you will fall in love with. Continue reading “Help! Is Love a Decision or Not?”

Do You Like the Rain?

For me, I had always been in love with it for rain has always been the greatest thing for me.

I do not know why but every time it rains, I just light up, smile and want to fling out my arms and be enveloped by it.

When it rains, I eat ice cream and enjoy every bite of delicious goodness. I could never enjoy any ice cream if rain was not to be found. Continue reading “Do You Like the Rain?”

Christmas Gave to Me

No, it’s not the ladies dancing,
nor the ten lords who are a leaping,
instead, Christmas gave me something
that made my heart go singing

No, it’s not the usual lesson
of this merry, joyful season:
that to give is not a question,
generosity’s the equation

Instead, Christmas sang to me
the splendor of gratitude’s glee,
the beauty of my answered plea
in a time when born is He

Gratitude, for the family and friends,
for the joy that has no end,
and the gifts that they did send,
packed with love they carefully tend

Gratitude, for the season that comes once
and yet, gives us many a chance
to be thankful as we dance,
as we move through the days as if in a trance

Gratitude, that lets us see the light,
in a time that is full of night
letting us see our relationships’ might,
even though there are times that we do fight

Gratitude, dear Christmas’ firstborn,
often neglected and forlorn
call us back with your horn,
and let us thank Him who is born.

Her Gift

The way home proved to be one passing through streets of color-filled Christmas decorations. I didn’t mind that the road was a little slippery from the pattering rain. I knew that my Margaret was too old for bribes but I didn’t want it in my mind that I have done nothing to fix up what happened between us.

Taking a glance Continue reading “Her Gift”

Phantoms

In the face of the setting sun,
not too far from the fiery ocean,
I hear a laugh I know so well
was it really there? No one could tell.

Turning a little,
I see a boy
chasing a dog,
face etched with joy.

To ease my mind
I walk some more
Smelling the scent of love
that was there no more.

Then do I remember, Continue reading “Phantoms”