A Lazy Sunday Morning
Church bells drift through rain-soft air,
Cerys Matthews spins her tales and songs.
I nestle beneath a quilt of quiet,
book in hand, the world half gone.
Wind stirs whispers through the trees,
mountains blur in a sleepy haze.
Chores linger like clouds at the edge of thought—
but Sundays were made to laze.
I can see how I would like my life to be
I am changing, rearranging,
resetting, nesting,
settling, settling into
my own skin.
I am getting to know myself, inside and out.
I like what I see and feel.
Finally, falling in love with me.
I dont need to
worry about things
that arise from the past.
I’m leaving it all behind. No longer living in rewind.
I’m just pressing play and dealing with each day.
That will do!
True love has finally come true.
I Try If you find my confidence, please send it backI am the one hiding under a hat, with red curly hair.I try to blend in, as I am not very good at mixingI am stumbling on my feet and tripping over my words.I try to put on a disguise.If you see me out and […]
Daisy Green
The moon has often abandoned me and left me with sorrow
But
The beaver moon was different
The moon often makes me horny and not wise
But the beaver moon was different
It brought passion and lust
Good old fashioned teenage snogging
The kisses I adored, looking into one another’s eyes, like we had nothing to hide
This isn’t love, this isn’t even a partnership
It is passion and lust, enjoying the intensity of each amorous thrust
There’s nothing more to the ‘Act of love’ than exploring one another’s likes and dislikes
We are just pals that make the ‘Act of love’ crazy fun and nothing more
The senses are aroused, he growls, she moans, She shouts out his name (she can’t remember his name)
She comes, he comes.
His breath explores her pussy, every part of their senses is aroused
Explode
Explode
Explode
She explodes all over again
She weeps, never has she felt such tenderness before
They continue to kiss
This she does miss
But they are just pals that make the ‘Act of love’ crazy fun and nothing more
The beaver moon was different
I was the Spider caught in his Web
With his bridge line
The weaving got tighter
My heart became fainter
I was the water colours
Trying to blend in
He was the painter
Creating the obscure mix
He was the creator
He was the narrator
I was the character in his play
It made me sick in so many ways
It took me a while to realise
He was the cause
Of this broken product
He told me he loved me
But secretly
He was destroying me
I tried to escape so many times
He worked his magic
I was easily hypnotised
With his hidden lies
I am still trapped in his web
Although
I have broken his bridge thread
I’m left with words unsaid
Unsaid by me
As I was to afraid
Even though the cage has been broken
I have been left wide open
You are the reason
I am still reeling
With so many confusing feelings
There’s no logic in the things you did
But
These are the things that effect the way I live
I thank the moon for the darkened sky that has gone
I can try and be at one
Thank you!
As I waited for the dark clouds to disperse
The moon reflected its honour upon me
Sequenced shadows of dark and light
Brought pure delight
To this manic night
As she sat under the stars and the moon, the clouds were playful with her gloom. She waited patiently for the dark blackened clouds to uncover her delight of the bright Harvest Moon. Her eyes wandered to the falling stars, serenading her with wishes that may come true. For she had a hundred wishes to be fullfilled. Distracted by the beauty of the darkened sky, keeping her heart beating. Finally the luminious moon makes an extraordinary appearance. Dulling her sadness.
Nature in the evening
Wild life in the day
Taking all the thoughts away
He is no longer part of my life
Nowhere in sight
But the thoughts, the feelings
Still come as a shock
Those things he was saying
The looks and behaviour
He was displaying
I didn’t realise it was a game he was playing
His lyrics all make sense
‘I knew just what to say,
It’s just a game I play’
Never, Never
He ain’t all that clever
Emasculated once again
He acts the clown
His attitude changed
When I was no longer prepared
To play his game
He needed to get out
He could no longer stay
He’s worn out
He’s out of moves
He’s lost his lover
His vinegar woman is bitter
He can’t cope with change
He likes things to stay the same
This battle is over
He feels the scars
La La La
He is left alone
You can read it from top to bottom or the bottom to the top 🙂 Inspired by my garden mole.
I feel like a mole
Living in a hole
Living deep underground
Scrambling my way around
Searching through the darkness
Seeking the light
My burrow is never bright
All is out of sight
There is the mound
Do I dare to go out and look around?
I pop my head through
What shall I do?
My eyes they sting
The light is too bright
My heart it races
With fright
I turn and hideout
Back inside
I feel safe
Living deep underground
I am the mole
Living in my hole
Life is full of woe
This life is full of growth
We can deal with both
Daisy Green 