Best Refuses Poems

As I sit watching fusions of saffron and scarlet hues 
elegantly charm the horizons.
Silently, fluffy lush clouds float by
like a magnetic field drawing me closer,
in...

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Close your eyes
inhale roses-
love-glazed steam 
of insatiable thirst;
place your thoughts 
upon my heart,
feel my 
voice s w i r l i n g
in sync with...

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Upon the doorstep of my paradise,
     You’ll find h e l l i s h pansies and t a i n...

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One day we will be, forever silent.
Where would we be without poetry?

As a child, I buried my heart,
drained from games death would play -
in adulthood,...

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In the silence of sadness,
what will the winds bring tomorrow?
In the sadness of silence,
my soul sighs soft breaths of sorrow.

Where did those rainbows go,
reminiscing happier...

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Stillborn
a mood of aberrant colour
a stain on the Artist’s worlds
a heart pulsating with pain
a wide range of intense ardour
mixed  on a fine palette
and a...

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When tuscan tunes of twilight,
cascade as clementine confetti, 
She searches for secret silhouettes,
swirling to the symphony 
of sunflower serenades.

In the midst of faded fields,
marigold memories...

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When anxious thoughts linger through a grey maze of silence,
I search for metaphors of hope in trembling twilight-
while ink refuses to bleed~ heart fights for...

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An Ode to Femininity and Romance -

The background music of this delicate poetic arrangement is intended to be played softly as you sit back and...

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I often sit for long periods of time
hoping the perfect beginning will come to me.
To write a poem that starts with a pristine Capital
leaving readers...

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I have always been alone
I have always been the lonely one
In the corner, quiet and silent
Inside of dreams to come

So with determination
I build and build...

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I

An ode to the courageous hummingbird
The tiniest bird, but bravest of all
He flits about without saying a word,
When most unexpected he comes to call
Fluttering gossamer...

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When streams of paper roses,
bleed bitter fragrances,
evil mists of leaves slowly fall,
drifting along autumnal 
breeze of yesterdays.

And i question
unseen dirt trapped
between sharpened thorns:
what if the...

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One hundred and six degrees was the rumor.
I checked at noon, it was only ninety-six.
Rumor fake news.

I sit on my front porch 
lapping up the...

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 Was privileged to have sedentary on the seashore in seraphic poetic submersion;
 the ringing sounds from the distant horizon made me entirely lost in...

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