Stories Poems

Through the veil of mist, stars weave stories in whispers of silver

Through the veil of mist, stars weave stories in whispers of silver,
Illuminating the path of shadows dancing on the edge of the dream.
Rivers of time flow through valleys of memories forgotten by the world,
Where each moment weeps its tale in echoes of longing.
Trees stretch their arms toward the sky full of enigmas,
In their foliage, the

Gorilla Silly Stories

Ugly gorilla tell silly story about his friends, dogs - rabbits.

Big and small lizards carefully listen to the gorilla and smile.

STORIES FOREVER

STORIES FOREVER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dropper full of ink
with each stroke, words come to life
stories forever

Red Herring

As a young boy
when not very old
I did enjoy
being told
grisly bedtime stories
by my Mother
the favourite was
none other
than
altho' I was just a nipper
Whitechapel Fishmonger Murders
perpetrated by
Jack the Kipper

My life stories

Do not get carried away with a man testifying about you

The fleeting and lying world will dump you soon and leave you cold

Hard to explain your loyalty when your eyes are closed

Folly game they play, holding to unconfessed sins to do

Well, a judgment day will end them anyway 

One thing is for sure, evil has

Escape

sensual touches
sate a need that aids depressed
hearts seeking passion
patches to cover twin aches
worn as scars from rejection

escape needs fulfilled
covers hold two stories told ~
desperate duet

my grandma's disremembered stories

grandma, the family storyteller
in old age would forget
so her stories changed with the retelling
but an essence of truth remained
her voice echoes in my heart

was each story semantic to grandma
new in ambiguity to her
with random memories merging

I am the storyteller now
looking into the calm reflective waters of time
seeking recollected memories that echo 

my words specular with

Fleeting Friends

Grown apart 
we became after 
a long while,

Remember those days?

Daily talks upon hours,

endless laughter,
countless stories,
shared struggles,
emotional break-
throughs, 

as we both sit next 
to each other in
silence.

I always remember

my best buddy,
the one who saw
me when others
left without looking
twice and held my
hand with genuine 
love.

A rare gem, one of its kind

The time continues to
pass us on, 

memories

Stories, hmmmm

The story

as an identity

names what

I am~

The story

as a story 

names 

liberation~~

In the depths of my soul, I weave webs of dreams, where silence whispers forgotten stories

In the depths of my soul, I weave webs of dreams, where silence whispers forgotten stories,
I try to sew the past with threads of stars, but you always find ways to my heart.
I see you clearly, even when the light of my eyelids fades, and the world slowly disappears,
For you live in the corners of

OLD STORIES COMING BACK

I remember when our children were children…and we were younger as well…
In a time they believed everything we said…oh the jokes and stories we would tell…

We could tell them the moon was made of cheese, fool them with card and magic tricks
and when we told stories around the campfire..they would sit and listen…transfixed.

One of my

Faded Canvas

Love has tied me in ways I never desired
Longing of you has carved your heart inside me
Under the Twilight , beneath moon  I gaze pearls of pain
Every sigh whispers the silence between us
Love has tied me in ways I lost you...

In the cosmic silence of the night, when the stars weave stories on the dark sky

In the cosmic silence of the night, when the stars weave stories on the dark sky,
I wonder where my place is in this vastness of dreams and shadows.
If the earth calls me home, why do I tremble under the weight of birth,
like a mountain feeling its stones weep under the burden of time?
If my family

Toward you I move, with every step lost in the wind that sings stories

Toward you I move, with every step lost in the wind that sings stories,
When I say I'm coming home, I'm actually moving toward you, though I scatter along the way,
The warmth of returning envelops me like a cloak woven from memories of longing,
And the milestones of the roads press like long shadows stretching over ancient

When Stories Soar

N-ovels
E-ntertain
C-urious
I-ndividuals
E-agerly

R-eading,
O-nce
N-otable
O-dysseys
E-levate
L-ife

©bfa061525
Monocrostic (Birthday of Necie Ronoel)

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