The mystic bay channels my
every emotion moving slowing
throughout tunnels and vessels
of my mind tampering with
my infamous glow my tangible
smile gathering mirth as i am
quite taken with self the heart
of my magnificent being tasting
the glamorous hues of heavenly
bliss coasting daintiness balanced
so well embracing thoughtful
interludes chastised mannerism
created just so as i continue
flowing between this galaxy of
stars twinkling magnitude offering
nothing an yet so glorified, fulfilled
with every inch of the fine wonders
of enduring this wide open grandeur
beyond a whisper blindly heard
bravely singing my own masterpieces
the notion a fine rapture of proses
carried out across the mystic bay
Curtains, at Grandma’s house,
hide the inner sanctum -
memories remodeled.
—Quote by Poet
I Recall Curtains
Loveliness is lace; I recall curtains.
Village without curtains; and lace.
One bow on a pine, lopsided star.
Intricate lace is snow white.
Many pines in the mountain skies,
the chimney and post office spire
pointing at the twinkling stars, all
hover over the curtainless village.
Rocking horse and spinning top, highlight
the two-storied “Toys and Games.”
I wonder who lives upstairs at the “Bakery.”
Such a teeny tiny village offering, yet
the daintiness embellishes a Winter wall;
Loveliness is lace; I recall curtains.
unexpectedly
she stood strangely not feeling
good ... unaccustomed
... of prime decency
sheltered world ~ as a mistress
breathes regency -- barfs
I search,
Am I a lost cause?
I speak to all, to friends
To enemies.
Where can she be?
My love is nowhere to be found.
I search for her daintiness,
Her dark black fringe,
Her lithe contours so marvellous.
Her red full lips.
Am I pursuing a foolish dream?
A glimpse.
That’s all I ask.
I will be in paradise.
Tell her it was just a random remark.
I love her till the end of times.
And I wander around the main streets,
Searching,
Searching.
I am not much I know,
But I need her.
I saw a glimpse of her.
She smiled.
But it could not be her!
Her hair was red.
Could she have played a trick on me?
I only see red now.
Ujjal Mandal, India
On a spring morning the sweet
smell of newly clad blossoms
coated with dew and honey,
I saw a maiden tugging
a ivory comb through her long
and smooth tresses
beneath a tree;
I approached to her.
Oh, she was more florescent than the moon
of the night,
Flowers stoop to her beauty,
such beauty I never have seen nor
I felt before,
I agree to gobble up the poison
of her charm and daintiness.
I meander my way through the hills, noting the pretty violets.
Their daintiness delights me, so I sit, trying not to crush any.
An impossible task. While I am down here, I notice the morels.
My hand reaches past them to feel the bumpiness of the tree moss.
The sun has greeted me; I see a diagonal sun stream lighting the meadow.
I lean against the trunk of the oak and study the prettiness of this valley.
Since I was a child I always wanted to be a grandma and live in the country.
I never wanted to cook or bake, so I don’t.
I sit here, loving the sound of crickets.
Was that a frog? I get up to wander to the pond. There are minnows there.
I can practically feel the cool water on my fingers; I stare at my age spots.
When did I grow my grandmother’s hands? I wonder if I still have my freckles.
The ones grandpa used to tease me about when I was nine. I will look later.
They came steadily but silently
Dancing in a fancy way, but not a frenzy
There was a melodic feeling in the forest
We knew then the faeries had arrived
It was the annual faerie circle
The festival of the daffodil births
Happens every March after the last snow
Most do not see it, we empaths feel it
I sat and watched, in awe of their daintiness
They came from every corner of the world
It was amazing and awe inspiring
The Dance of the Faeries
*Image of Mount Olympus by Pixabay.
Wedding Top Mount Olympus
Daintiness gauges in the light
Harmonia illuminates the Hall
Aphrodite and Ares delighted
Cadmus finagles an approach
All of Olympus in observance.
~Elysium shines~
2022 January 26
Do we not procure enough happiness in our dull lives?
When someone else is amply satisfied with themselves,
Otherwise, how much joy does one merely receive?
When someone else gains trust and in you can believe.
We should all endeavor to esteem and regard every one of us.
A more peculiar companion or family isn't genuine, thus.
May our excursion be one of happiness and daintiness?
What's withal in all we serve and heed, with spiritedness,
To set up an external assessment for everyone clod.
It is out of the compass of any individual who isn't God.
Regardless, there is pain and gain in the present situation.
Otherwise, there is a service of both joy and tribulation.
His power, weakness, and feelings were frittered away.
It's paradoxical since he was destroying his own joy.
Written: December 21, 2021
She was a delicate cat, a darling little miss.
Her soft tan color gave her a look of daintiness.
I climbed up on a ladder and tried to coax her down.
She blinked her eyes at me, backed up with a frown.
Come on, sweetie, I said. You are such a darling honey.
I told my husband I could get her; we had bet some real money.
She got higher now, and it made me irritated.
She was at least six feet further, I felt exasperated.
Come on, honey, I said with my sweetest smile.
She backed up further, more than a yard, maybe a mile.
My husband came out and yelled “How are you doing up there?”
I said “You scared her, and now the bet is not fair!”
He laughed at this, for he knew I might welch on the bet.
Come on, baby, I said to the cat whose eyes got quite wet.
She lunged at me with a paw trying hard to scratch me.
So I removed the ladder and left her up in that tree.
Awed by the scarlet cone flower’s beauty, I sense her purity.
I give her a reverent birth, thrilled by her loveliness.
Her confidence oozes into the garden with rapt maturity.
She has a delicate countenance that shows such finesse.
Hostile gardenias frown at her majestic ways and daintiness.
Jealousy has apparently reared its hideous head.
Goodly cone flower appears unsoiled, with no distress.
Mother nature smiles enough said.
There is an ominous feeling from the tulip bed.
They are giving the cone flower looks of a bully.
Enraged by her beauty, because they are almost dead,
They do their best to disturb and sully.
Enthusiastic geranium gives scarlet coneflower the nod.
He appreciates her tolerance for the garden varieties.
A butterfly light upon her pedals, which is not in the least odd.
Cone flower feels appreciated now in many degrees.
Baby faeries feel love toward the scarlet flower of the day.
They decided to visit along with their mystical mothers.
Coneflower exudes warmth and love in every way
Which eliminates the negative feelings of others
Written 5-28-2021
Type: Quatrain
Contest: Workshop Inviting to a Muse
Sponsor: Jack Webster
her daintiness well hidden
Armora slid out of bed
fully sheathed in full armour
ready to fight anything that came along today
A handsomely muscled knave arrived with breakfast.
She let him live.
Her ex-husband popped in.
Where had he gotten a key?
She picked up her sword.
As archeologists show off their ancient fossils
Baby mushrooms spring within mossy islands
Violets curl the forest floor with purple daintiness
Brown acorns smile beneath these giant oaks
Baby mushrooms spring within mossy islands
Dandelions flash the meadow with their friendly sun
Brown acorns smile beneath these giant oaks
The essence of earth smiles with delight
Dandelions flash the meadow with their friendly sun
Violets curl the forest floor with purple daintiness
The essence of earth smiles with delight
As archeologists show off their ancient fossils
Sun Goddess at large in frilly filigree frock
Holding the world in her hand at a gentle angle
I sense her joyful soul and our hearts quickly lock
How much more exquisite can she clearly dangle?
She glows gold in the morning, showing me her love
Streaks across the sky fiercely at night with happiness too
Dashes of daintiness exude from her catbird seat above
Whispers of joyfulness showing off her delicate eyes of blue
Sun Goddess, I count on you each and every pretty day
Your warmth helps me to be the best earth person I can be
To watch the squirrels and the creatures of the forest play
Is truly wonderful and lovely, made possible by thee
Your golden halo and your intrinsic locks of genius power
Entice me to be the best person I can be for the entire day.
Your morning love goes well with coffee and an ice cold shower.
Your spirituality and essence clearly and distinctly lead the way.
While they do their snazzy dance
I sit quietly, holding my breath, enraptured.
Marveling at their poise and their daintiness.
The forest is quiet, the slow pop of the embers the only sound.
It would be a great night to hear an owl.
The queen senses someone is about.
I am a secret watcher, uninvited to this campfire dance.
I hold my breath, and remain hidden behind a felled giant oak.
The queen has stopped dancing.
Her opalescent wings show themselves.
I take off on a run, listening to my footsteps
Crunching against dried leaves on the forest floor.
Pursued by a faerie.
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