Sunbeams drift, swaying wind, rain or shine. Auburn curls swing between them, to make sure the brilliance doesn't blind. Cherries of pink, always for reasons beyond comprehension, fill soft, smiling cheeks. Eyes the colour of stones, not those that you crush under your feet but ones to cherish and keep safe.
Like the warm embrace, a feeling not to hurt and use. But just to remember, to scare away fear or pain. Evergreen smile.
How to honour the colours,
that make our world seem bright,
or to worship the textures,
that make our world seem right.
Both make the sky,
so beautiful in form,
and both make these pages look,
old and warm.
They make the darkness,
look cold and fierce,
and help the light,
to shine and pierce.
Pierce through the,
dark, dank and dreary,
and the evil of the world,
that makes these bones feel old and weary.
They add beauty and majesty,
to a mundane existence,
filled with other mortals,
moved by a shallow persistence.
They are one small glimpse
into the world above
and one small gift
on parallel with love.
A world of darkness
before my eyes
covering the colours
the blue of the sky.
The green of the grass
the brown of the trees
though I can hear the waves
I'll never see the seas.
Never know the beauty
the brightness, the light
and no one I love can
understand my plight.
They hide me away
away from the world
when all I am is a
scared little girl.
A world of darkness
covers my eyes
these walls are my prison
I'll never see the sky.
The unkind darkness fed her fear,
sending her into fits of unquenchable desire.
The desire to leave this place.
Leave the room that has cornered her dreams into a
lonely and terrifying corner.
Where they lay, shivering, crying, screaming.
It haunted her.
Bringing that blanche white colour to her face
and the wide horror to her eyes.
With it also came uncertainty.
Another partner to claw at her mind,
to rake it of comforting thoughts and the only notion
that kept her safe, sane, alive.
That this night may be over soon.
Goodbye to the feeling,
of the wind under your wings.
Goodbye to flying high,
although I love you.
Goodbye to my sword,
it's singing fresh in my mind.
Goodbye to the warrior,
although I love you.
Goodbye to my crown,
your rubies twinkling bright.
Goodbye your highness,
although I love you.
Goodbye to the dreams,
for I'm too old for you now.
Time to join reality,
Goodbye and I love you.
To be a sigh,
floating on the wind.
Starting off as an exert of one's life,
but slowly departing into something more.
Caused by pain,
pleasure,
exhaustion,
love,
but still drifting into the world above.
And it has made it,
passed this life.
It's no longer a sigh,
but an emotion.
Travelling through the endless ether of here,
there,
nowhere.
Have you ever held a feather?
Or caught a 'santa' on the wind?
Have you ever felt their soft caress?
Or watched them flutter between your fingers?
That is what you feel like,
soft, sweet and fragile,
in my arms.
To stare at a page,
with no blemishes or spots,
holds a sense of beauty,
to people by the lots.
The purity and newness,
they think it of perfection,
however I think it lacks,
a decent sense of direction.
Wrinkles mean to smile,
spots mean you've walked in the sun,
if your skin is pale and clean,
you life has not begun.
So cherish every day,
and cherish every night,
if you have seen so many,
you have cherished the gift of life.
Imperfections, flaws and crevices,
they hold the story of our being,
they add hope and promise,
to a life yet without meaning.
I have these wrinkles,
and I have these spots,
and I treasure the mean