Color My World..

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There are times, it seems,

like in misty dreams

where a lack of color

brings clarity.

Subtle hues of

shadow and light,

a silent whisper

of Earth’s delight.

Timeless,

Motionless,

Ethereal.

Perhaps the reds

and golds and blues,

the roses’ blush

and sunset views,

obscure,

detract,

the impact

of line and form,

cool and warm.

Enter imagination-

sharp, unfurled-

in the blink of an eye

to color my world!

 

Cheryl KP

copyright words and image 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tender Tuesday

Try a little tenderness…

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The world grows harsh and cold

with every click and tick

of tech and clock and sands

slipping through our hands

fall to the ground

without a sound

no whimper

no moan

alone

trampled by the cruel heel of Apathy..

the Forgotten

 

Cheryl KP

copyright words and image 2019

 

In Another Dream

Somehow in this life, this dream, I have challenged myself to function in a most analytical arena, stretching my powers of detailed memory and patience, compassion and  tolerance often to the edge of snapping. I love good communication with my fellow humans; however a work environment leaves little time or condusence to pleasant, equal exchange and yet I must communicate all day long. By the time I get home I long to slip out of my work scrubs, slip into comfy clothes, make a drink and sit outside. That is where my truest connections seem to be.

The world beyond our ordinary scope of viewing is vast, fascinating and ever changing. Most people aren’t aware of the precesses going on above, below and around them as they sleep walk through so many of their life moments.

I could bemoan the fact that, if only I’d waited a bit longer before making some of my life choices, I might have chosen a different path. An entimologist? Ornothologist? Veterinarian? The truth is that, although the world of Science and Nature fascinates me, along with all the interesting facts and discoveries that are made daily; I would be bored in a labarotory doing calculations, looking into microscopes and possibly seeing things that would make me sad.

What I really love is just observing the small things that show up whenever I feel down, when beauty seems elusive and my heart is heavy. Just watching how they seem to delight in their work that goes on each and every moment for the survival of their, as well as our, species eases my weary soul.

Have a look through the lens and see what I see….

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“What a beautiful flower,” she said as she passed by.

A world of wonder when viewed with a keen eye.

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No rest for the busy tiny overlooked bee
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Yet she seems happy scooping pollen up so lovingly

 

We could take a cue from our little friends

about the nature of cohabitation, cooperation

and sharing.

 

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Each so busy with its work to mind the other. Soon they may switch places.
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Such a lovely busy bee, pays no mind to me..

Unless I get too close!

My faery friends have been slow to show themselves but we have had some interesting moths lately. Many I have never seen before.

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I’ve said it before but it bears repeating.

Take a moment to look beyond what you expect to see. Open your heart and soul to the connectedness of the All That Is. Think about being social with a different kind of network.

They were here first..

This post is part of  Linda Hill’s #SoCS prompt. Visit her blog for links to more great prompts and meet some fine bloggers.

For some lessons on good social behavior you should pop over to the bar and chat with Dan of No Facilities.

Happy Free 48!

 

Sweet Captivity

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Somewhere~

in the silent breath twixt unconcious bliss

and first morning light’s dewy kiss

my soul stands still,

my mind’s free will

unfettered by the constraints

of cruel convention,

what strange dimension

of perfect comprehension,

the bliss of awakening.

Gone the phantasm of night,

its war of demons driven back

by crystal shards of daylight~

my heart softly weeps

for the memory sleeps

on within its cell,

magic’s darkest spell

lingering,

fingering

the rusty keys,

tormenting,

unrelenting.

The choice  my own,

the seeds were sown

so long ago.

How could I know 

such sweet  fruit

would wither, rotten

in the garden of the forgotten,

where silence is not golden

but deafeningly black and blue~

It waits there for you.

 

Cheryl KP copyright words and images 2019

This post brought to you by blogger Linda Hill

Check out her blog for other great posts and prompts!

And if you’re in the mood for more foggy tales, visit Dan at the bar today

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Awake!

Quickly! Hold your candles high,

oh Children of the Light

and do not let them flicker

through

the cold and angry night.

As darkness slips

across the land,

the bony fingers

of its hand

fill the empty hearts

and break the fractured minds

of the lost and angry kind

with insidious accuracy

as it is wont to do.

 

The Destroyer playing

hide and seek

while feeding on

the lost and weak,

and crying foul

within the game

Fear works to snuff

the very flame

it desires above all else.

 

Raise your voices high,

oh you Bringers of the Dawn,

the King is growing restless,

time to check him with

a pawn.

Light the corners,

fill the holes

of the lost

and weary souls

so that Fear cannot

reside there,

deceipt cannot hide there

where Love takes up the space.

 

Awake, ye Crystal Child,

for the time is drawing nigh,

pluck the stars from heaven’s

garden, and please do not be shy!

Create a brilliant, bright bouquet

and with your Wisdom run and play.

Bring back to life

what now is dying,

expose the jackals

that are lying.

 

Wake, oh Children,

sleep no more,

for patient Death

is at the door-

and he is ravenous.

 

CKP

copyright 2019

 

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Image courtesy of https://images.app.goo.gl/qDfuBFuPEJQL8naE6

 

This post is part of Linda Hill’s #SoCS prompt. For a little of that Brother Love and old time religion while enjoying a beer, visit Dan’s place.

 

 

 

 

Time and Again/#1LinerWednesday

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Adrift on a sea of velvet dreams-

soft, pink memories that fade

in the harsh light of reality.

I wander through the hallows

of the forgotten, where moments

sharp as cut diamonds tempt my

hopeful heart, whisper my name-

beckoning, taunting, haunting,

cruel, heartless passion!

Tis a lonely journey,

wheel of life an endless round,

seeking love that won’t be found,

that cannot hear

the beat of a tender heart.

Over and around, up

and down. In and out

and round about.

So, even if there be no end

what can be lost if thus a friend

is made along the way?

What more to say?

Better, then, to have a friend

and not impassioned story end,

than wrapped in deep desire

to sink writhing in its mire

without friendship’s  warm

embrace to fan the fire.

Can you see me?

Can you feel me

like a whisper,

as a prayer,

a breath,

regret?

 

Cheryl KP

Copyright Words and photo 2019