Writer's Dream


Predator or prey,

what’s lost can’t be restored.

What’s jotted in black,

will be dressed in white.

Redemption is key,

spark the will.



My word against yours,

all were shades of our worries,

for it came down pouring,

till it was late to ignore it.

You and I were torn apart.

Love knocked my door.

While I was blooming, It knocked at my door, I was new to it, So I was assuming. Was it was? Something feary, Or something deary. Shall I let it in, Or to get within, It was bright and fuming, Yet I feared with its glittering, It’s tempting, hard to resist, For a while I […]

via Love knocked my door!!  — Free to express

Autumn days


The autumn sun flatters the aging eyes. The soul endures while the mind reigns. “Mother made delightful tea,” Bennie recalls. He lets a grin slip on his lips. Slouching in his seat, a thin plume rises from his cup.

No apologies


No apologies,

from the man above the clock.

Less he feels remorse,

he won’t cruise with the flock.


No apologies,

from the man above the clock.

Unveiling his disguise,

goons traded pearls for rocks.


No apologies,

from the man above the clock.

A show of luster,

starlit he was.


Writer’s Dream


He scours the lands, working against the odds. In his prime, he sets his eagle eyes on his true desires. He scolds his doubts, his second thoughts burning out. The ashes of his past lay frozen below his feet.



Dancing to the wind, the sun promised me light. Dawn came and a surge of horror seized the long hours of the day. The dark clouds were patched on the horizons and I never saw her again. I withered.

A brilliant day commenced. A whirling bumblebee devoured my fears, reviving a shred of hope. Brighter I became, petals dazzling in a purposeful color.

Winter came and I lost a friend. A fondness was breached with words they couldn’t keep.

Writer’s Dream



Sands of dismay buried her will. Frightened and lost, she took her chances. She raced into the emptiness searching for a meaning, thunder shaming her for it. With her pleas roaring through the skies, she chose not to give in. Taking a long race of beauty and life, the heavens redeemed her. Alive she was.



As much as I’d like to share,

no one seems to care,

if my love is fair,

or whether your words can scare.


No secrets can bear,

the long intimate stare,

when two souls dare,

to ignite under the layer,

of the moonlight.

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