I write because I read. I read because I write.
Behind the grills of painted metal, Itry to find the source of song I'm hearing,some leaves started dancing with wind so dry,then comes the busy wings flapping, flapping.A hummingbird with honeyed beak, tiny,oblivious of watching eyes - for good.No one wants to be watched when it's windy,and nectar hides inside the flower's hood."Close your eyes… Continue reading hearing hummingbird: a novilinee*
sonnets no longer needed,era of legend-loveended before our birthmonth cracked its firstegg yolk sun, surelysome lovers of eagle know neverever should wings yearn for the sunoverly close or turn tougly ashes no poet will mourn about. — 08.25.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International… Continue reading hiding: an acrostic plus*
walking bones and fleshtalking nerves cartilagesmachinery - dark inside - yet summer warm with heart as suni wonder those with long long gunsas they fire bang see blood and brain splattered who is the god who honors what their masked lips prayed? — 08.20.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo by freestocks on Unsplash This… Continue reading bang: a quadrille
Heart rusted by old clock's thick hands,death never knocks, no one arrives. You've suit yourself in silence's lap,still steps of spring bring in lilacs. As blossoms wilt, more souls depart, while you're still there, above graveyards. Immortal but forever cursed— to wait for love, that never stays. — 08.20.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo… Continue reading for the one waiting: a kasa*
Three chili plants remaining, I once thought they would succumb after I almost drowned them with neem oil because of pesky ants. Together in a pot, amidst many stormy nights, it's always a surprise when I see them breathing in silent delight. Yes, with wrinkled leaves, but at least, still alive.But these clouds are clearly… Continue reading cloud’s sunburn
Choir of August rain singsTo soil and cloud just married,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried.A cup of tea, I made,With cubed sugar on the side,My feet remains buriedThough the door is open wide.Silence sat beside me With light solitude carried,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried. Grey sky may seem… Continue reading an afternoon: a mirrored refrain*
aglasswindowmultiple f e e t& arms wide blessed with the f a r peaks view looking so nearmy tongue can l i c k their iced tips.legs of oaks holding our toes afloat asif the drop is not 5,000 feet. considerthe wild strawberries outside, untouch-ed yet blossoming under the winter airsome cicadas are here to… Continue reading by the hills
heard it's bad to stand so longthink ankle hurting calves groaning but spine will also complain about sitting from first roosters call to the sun's departure ihave been standing stillagainst the wind ofvirus that killed my airplane-bound-homeuntil how long? — 08.04.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons… Continue reading someone stood still on a globe for 50 minutes
flowers,petals. your charm.soft, silky worn by lilies, wild daffodils, on your head they sit and take tea, Persephone. do they wilt as yourscented toes step towards your beloved's grave? because the leaves do.because the leaves do. — 08.04.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International… Continue reading talisman
every morning the peacocks call,wild and free on their private ball,out of the trees after rains fall,a sight for all, a sight for all.are they big, small? i do not know.my tea's friend is the house sparrow,unafraid of my breath's flow solet the wild go, let the wild go. — 30.07.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All… Continue reading wild ball: a monotetra
