Sometimes we take a turn with others in the dance club.
It’s fun and friendly but when it’s over - you know it.
He stepped on my foot
and I winced in pain
he’d stepped on my foot
and then he did it again
That's the danger in dancing
a slow dance - being too snug
his hands on your back
and you're pinned like a bug
I should wear combat boots
when cutting a rug
with guys I'm not sure of
I’d finally had enough
The last guy ended our dance
by adding a hug - I don’t know,
a bit extra, but I went with the flow
Why am I sweating in strange men’s arms?
Then again, what exactly is the harm?
The social oddity of public touching,
of course, is that if we weren’t dancing,
would I even stand close to them?
p.s.
If you’re looking for a Summer, French-café coded, it-girl drink to put out your fire of thirst, try a ‘Diabolo menthe,” it’s made of lemon soda plus mint syrup and obviously non-alcoholic. Pair it with a vanilla Madeleine, a petite, shell shaped pastry with a lot of charm. YUM
.
.
A song for this:
I'll Call You Mine by girl in red
August by No Vacation
Up high, I touched a cloud
thinking it would be clingy
as that tasty lick of cotton-candy
stretched and stringy --
Touched a heart! Stuck forever.
Now wasn’t that also sweet
and clever!?
Come bring me your tears from the mountain's stream,
carry them down over those high cheek bones;
rush to me with your dampened eyes that gleam,
in your pocket you're touching river stones.
I will help you awaken from this dream.
I'll lick those dewy drops of life's sorrow,
hold you close and feel your heart's rapid beat;
rest your head on my way to the morrow,
let me cradle you deep with my soul's heat.
Strength from each other we'll lend and borrow.
There's a place I want to show you, baby,
a place that's safe and full of love so sweet;
happy are the only tears you'll cry ... free,
a fortress I'll build us in which to entreat
a lasting forever where we can be.
Those stones that you carried down from so high,
we'll mount o'er the door to remind us when
tears fell like rain but did so swiftly dry;
we know the meaning ... to begin again.
Hold your hand in mine, let me hear you sigh.
The Weight of Bread
He wakes before the sun learns how to rise,
Dreams folded neatly, hunger in his eyes.
The world demands its payment every day,
Rent, bills, and bread;there’s never room to stay.
Coins clink like questions in his trembling hand,
Each one already promised, already planned.
School fees, medicines, a flickering light,
He counts his worries every single night.
His hands are rough, the maps of endless toil,
Stained by sweat, by dust, by honest soil.
He builds the homes he’ll never get to own,
Lifts other dreams while carrying his own.
He smiles for children, hides the ache inside,
Swallows pride so his loved ones can survive.
No holidays, no rest, no soft retreat,
Just tired feet on unforgiving streets.
The world calls him “poor,” but does not see
The wealth of courage in his dignity.
For in his silence lives a powerful art,
A rich, unbreakable, human heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The castle is bold on the blue beyond, rising upon the hill as if its stones are created from the sun's early morning rays. It appears like a storybook creation--each stone even and square. I imagine unicorns dwelling in the courtyard. “If those towers exist, why not?”
turrets' pointed tips
reaching for the morning dew
humble, sacred place
the battlements, worn
time's gentle touch, a patina
stories whispered there
in each stone and brick
stories, secrets, and tales
mystical delights
courtyard’s silent, deep
fountains sing sweet melodies
magic in the air
in each tower's keep
faith, hope, and prayer take flight
touching morning's light
I can’t believe you’re not in the world anymore.
It’s like someone turned off all the lights
And the world went home.
The party, prematurely cut off—
Your face contours etched into my biology.
I feel you in every empty space,
Every pregnant pause.
You are the words I’ve forgotten,
The car keys I lost.
You are the second before I wake up,
My fevered dream.
You’re in every atom, every breath—
But damn, I still can’t feel you.
I want to melt and fade into you.
The silence is a violence
I challenge with poetry.
I throw metaphors
Into the void,
Hoping the void will answer back
In your voice.
Death is not the answer—
But the truth.
Grief is a runaway train
Ploughing through fields of wildflowers
Where we sat once,
Almost touching.
I still wait for your hand in the dark.
And I never got to say goodbye.
And the lights never came back on.
fresh mango sunrise
pink sun's on the horizon
muted hues brighten
in sleek raven hours
pretty rainbow nudges grass ~
storms and sun contrast
gold mist strokes valleys
of grasshoppers and blue jays
dewed floral displays
midnights of moonlight
and pearl rays touch my shoulder ~
plum time walks slower
Play only love songs
For tonight’s starshine hours,
with its winking
Constellations all
Hailed
And wished upon
To make this night completely
Ours ~
and keep love’s longing
Lasting
Here within us
Near
enough to
Touch
Smiles
While our wooing words turn into
gifts of kisses
Re-living our first embraces
with hearts pulsing
Music
Now
Freely composing itself
for our time yet to come
Living in a choral harmony
with love’s true verses
Coursing rivers
Amidst the patient rythms of
Lasting
Eternity…
Touching each Soul in the Universe
By Michelle Morris
23/10/2024
I am Love
I am Light
Can you feel it?
My energy Bright?
It's contagious
It'll affect your mood
You'll smile and be uplifted
Boy, you'll feel so good
I am Joy
I am Peace
Can you feel it?
It's like a dream
Spreading this feeling
Throughout the World
It starts with me
Pay it forward to All
I am Hope
I am Faith
Can you feel it?
Our connection is Amazing
You and I
Through Space and Time
Touching each Soul in the Universe
Through our Choices Divine
© Michelle Morris, 2024
I'm feeling beloved,
Touching smiles in your glances,
Tender devotion.
October 8 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Matthew 17-18
Key Verse – Matthew 17:7 And Jesus came and touched them, and said, Arise, and be not afraid.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR TOUCHING US,
TELLING US NOT TO BE AFRAID
Praise be to God for touching us,
telling us not to be afraid with His:
Words so precious
Ways surely pleasing
Works steadfastly perfect
Warnings strongly profitable
Wisdom Scripturally powerful
Matthew 17:15 Praise be to the Lord
for being merciful unto us:
Calming our fears
Charging our faith-fervency
Correcting us from faithlessness
Clearing out our concentration-focus
Cleansing us against filthiness of feverish fainting
Matthew 18:35 Praise be to the Saviour
for forgiving us with His:
Grace and mercy
Gentleness so mighty
Goodness midst miracles
Grants of generous magnificence
Guidance toward ministry-marvels. Amen!
October 8, 2024
I never knew that
my words could touch
so many hearts
I never knew that
my words could touch
so many hearts
Touching someone's life
Is a joy to other's heart
Crown to one who touch.
The clock ticks, and Time slips by,
Amass less! Let’s all give it a try,
Eyes closed, thoughts flow, of memories
recalled from pictures on the wall,
Back to the time of a rising to a call:
A plea to help the oppressed regain their
smile.
With so many faces from so many races,
All from different places.
Music playing, bodies swaying.
Hands clapping, feet tapping.
Young and old, united by their plight
Together, fighting the same fight.
The voice wanted to shout out loud and
clear for all to hear.
Come! Come! Take a look and see what
a difference giving a little can make for
those in dire need.
Ah, but how many would care?
And how many would take heed?
A broken door creaks.
A young child takes a peek,
stumbles and starts to weep.
An Elder speaks,
“Alas, still weak, but life now isn’t so
bleak”.
Simple but painfully touching words
the ears couldn’t bear to hear.
The heart, heavy with sadness, trembled,
then sank in despair.
It couldn’t help but wonder how many
would dare to part with a little from their
share.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.