Stormy Nights

Sleepy hollow, beds at night.

Sacredly hollowed.

Pitter, patter, the night runs away.

From dusk to dawn souls wonder,

Uniting in a land, some hatefully swallow.

Gently swayed by our own hearts deepest sorrows.

The night moves and all souls follow.

At night we lay. Begging for the end of our sorrows.

To meet up with old friends and kin long lost to life’s borrows.

Although we know life never gives them back.

At night we swallow.

Swallow our pride and fears.

We barrow strength to fight through the night.

At dawn we start to see….

Basking in the rays of the sun with no summer heat.

We lay in lovers arms, some in spirit; others in truth.

At night I dream of things I have yet to find true.

Stormy Night….

My sleepy soul, wallows.

Please see the below link to the song that inspired this Piece!!! 😉

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=summer+rain+carl+thomas

Sagacity

I want to suck the nectar from his spine.

Ring the juice from his bountiful grape vines.

Pluck the fruit from his glorious trees.

Ring them apart to plant my own seeds.

Enter his brain and travel its course.

Mine out the Gold and cipher his source.

For this, I will need to cast a spell.

An illusion to drink from his well.

To pluck his rip fruit, I must prevail.

Determine the strength of his roots.

I need to raise up a troop.

So that I can become a well, and water my vines.

How to befriend an enemy? To make him speak, to learn of his penetralia.

Get them to cast a spell, have him believe that you are a dry well; just a bit gormless.

Dependant upon their strength.

A damsel in distress?

Or a strongly minded sang-from lady?

Maybe someone who is a bit in between?

A gentle being with a hint of masculinity? An effulgent aura!

I think the best is a young hungry maiden who’s comparable to a typhoon.

Typhoons strikes fear into the heart. All while causing their victim to feel awed. Causing abeyance at her presences or entrance.

Thinking run, all the while begging to be kissed by her waves.

Yearning for even just a stiver of her attention and care.

I know not the exact tactics to envelope his ways.

One thing I do know is that I will win this hunt and learn his sagacious ways.

Mr.T

Mmm hmm Mr.T

similar to the Grinch.

Who’s learned to smile bright?

Masking his face with light.

Mmmm Hmmm Mr.T, I don’t want much to do with Mr.T

I feel he’s sick

Not hurt, just sick.

What if it’s the other way around?

Who knows, I still don’t like this Grinch.

He steals the show, but I bet he’s truly a bitch.

And I don’t mean in the commonly used way, he’s untrue to the image he shows.

Some call him cute and I think ewww.

It’s not normal to be so good at being cute.

Sometimes I see the Grinch.

I just know he has a black heart.

He isn’t truly nice.

I say this because he’s maliciously sly; with his cute pleasant smile.

depicting a soft demeanor.

He has a hidden motive.

And like a switch, out comes his mask.

I think I could describe him as the “Son of the mask, discovered by the Grinch”.

He’s not a “yes man” but he makes people perceive him as just as easy going.

Any feelings?

Nope, I’m cold.

Or am I…

Because I do wonder and allow my mind to ponder.

But I’ll try to be nice to the Grinch.

Miss.

Miss,with the eight and a half size feet.

Miss, she is truly uncategorized. She is simply reticent.

She’s nice but she’s also a trained eccedentesiast.

Too much is what she is, always being technical.

Questioning the sanity of others on a norm.

Smart but not quite wise.

Blessed but obviously fighting curses.

Miss, with the eight and a half size feet.

Is pretty according to the view point of others.

She herself is afraid to see.

See past her vain beauty and delve deep into her inner self.

She has orange cream sickle skin.

Thighs just a tad to big.

Open but foolishly closed.

Telling truths without divulging her truth.

Walks by dragging her feet and attempts to keep a perfect posture when she strides.

Eyes that have mastered the art of glowing upon call.

Discerningly pleasing, and pleased to please.

All because it sets other people at ease.

Skirting about relationships.

Befriending only to a certain degree.

Lazy while seemingly hard working.

Chatter box with an earnest heart.

gently assuaging the subconscious.

Unable to stay the same constantly growing in wanderlust by the day.

Miss, with what seems like two eight in a half size feet;

seeing in others what she refuses to see within herself.

Traveling to her Sophronia; A healthy state of mind characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one’s true self, and resulting in true happiness.

FD

Charming is this girl.

I’ve yet to make a stand on the degree of her minds command.

Just how smart and aware is she?

Pretty?

Friend?

Or hidden foe?

They say watch women.

And never undermine their ability to score.

“Hell has no fury like a woman scorned”.

I am a woman too…

The world has yet to burn my skin.

Truce, treaty, peace pipe, a pledge of allegiance?

She’s testing me, I’m also testing her.

She seems a bit careful with her words.

Open but not open.

Telling them a truth before they ask her for the truth.

Brushing lightly with the tip of her hands.

She stares silently at her prey.

Firmly suggesting for you to bend to her ways.

Seeking out weaknesses and turning them back to see their effects in play.

She has “game” and it’s better than a few others I know.

Mind your manners, abruptly raising a hand. To see who will flinch.

What is her mission?

Is she an alpha female or a follower of tales?

I’ve yet to decide, although I feel negatively impressed by her gaze.

Her stance is not that of a stallion.

And her stare is lacking in ferocity. But to whom does she compare?

She knows not how to glide when she walks.

Yet she can cause people to watch.

Charming girl, she’s cute in her own way; surely she’s a foe who’s perfecting her monkey show.

Crimson spell

Rose, in the evening

Scarlet was the letter.

Currant, were her words.

Blush, within her sigh.

Apple, was her iris.

Peacock, threaded tide.

Coral, upon the sand.

minty was the ocean band.

pistachio etched the sky.

Melencoly or blue was apart of her spell.

Rosewater,

Tinted cry.

percolate, rise, and swell; bloody rage,Garnet, ruby, fire now in her gaze.

Amber,was her name.

Crimson was the spell.

Scarlet were his words etched upon her heart.

Monkey, was the year of her lapis frosty lover.

Pictograph-Ish

Pictograph – Ish is where I will take single pictures and turn them into stories. I will start off with ones I have chosen and then ones that you recommend. Pics You can send me and I’ll tell a story or something funny from the picture.

Similar to “Prompt Me I Dare You!” but with no words only pictures. It can be poetry, long or short. It’s your picture and my new prompt so tell me the rules and I’ll be sure to comply.

I’m at your will but please don’t imply the impossible.

Well, why not, it’s not like failure is a bad thing at least we tried.

Once a month on a spectacular day it will be a surprise, so stay tuned in or you might miss the time.

When you can watch me pool through ideas. Now, this is a first come first served kind of deal.

And whatever your number is, is based upon how swift you can hit send.

Because then I will be forced to never renege. 🙂

Let’s walk down this path together.

Jump off this mountain and run towards our dreams and dance the night away. 🙂

Pictograph-Ish is the Term. And it’s here to stay! 😮

Please see the below link to the song that inspired this Piece!!! 😉

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this:

Share the word:

Like this: