I turn my face to yours. Such a gentle touch you give, my Selene. I look with awe and love to the sky. Inhaling the sweet scent of forest green and pine all around. I feel and hear your gentle breath as it wynds through the trees. Ah, your face is already engaged in close water source by my feet. Show me your glowing face and push away the shadows. Copyright © 2006 Ann Marie Meadows (Poetry.com) Copyright © 2009 Ann Marie Meadows (Lulu.Poetry.com)
Creepy movies, must be the hour… “Scream 3”, and seeing others.
“Tales from the Crypt”…so many seen and bring memories back…
All good scares and shockers for short stories. The Mummy, The Cat and Hansel and the Witch… all spine tingling.
This is a quirky October. I think I like it. But a good rest is needed soon.
..The energy swirls and springs back like pool eddies.
Lost memories rise to the surface and tweak the inner eye.
The mind sends signals and triggers the brain awake.
Short reels of memories paste themselves together and scroll across my mind’s eye to keep me entertained.
Lulling the senses and then a slow slide into sleep…
Dark into the night we talked. Long into the night we whispered. Silly nothings, lover's somethings Until ourselves we slept. Dreaming into the dawn hours. Bound in springtime's charm and glamour We desired something more, But to hear our hearts enamored. One day began as a miss The next as a wish Into the week I craved Into the month it was mist . . . One day you called and said the truth And fully waked I came. The long sleep of the dream cast off You apologized; it was a game. Copyright © 2006 Ann Marie Meadows (Poetry.com) Copyright © 2009 Ann Marie Meadows (Lulu.Poetry.com)
…music triggers, intrigue
…nothing sticks, just passes like water beneath the bridge
…sparks of something, that tug and pull yet drop you before you can touch…
…solace, caring not
…scattered at my feet like baubles from a broken string
Need an idea,
Feeling dried up and left hung to dry! Looking for an idea for poetry inspiration.
Coming to think I’m might be pondering the “what to write” to hard. Maybe some quiet time in Nature will inspire me.
So many venues, need to find one that will sooth the soul and loosen the lips of penmanship.