My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Late night summer walk up the hill to an InnThat rests high above the sea Starlight so clear, bright; still amazes me Enough to stop, take a breath; pause Each step is a reminder of all that I have ...found and lost Where I've been and where I'm going Should I go left or right …
Imagine stepping outside; early enough to witnessthe sun just about to rise, throwing streaks of goldslowly opening the screen door, old wood frame hearing sounds; sounds of the largest formation on the planet, uninterrupted with its intentions, motivations and natural ability of simply being a silhouette of sand and sea; birds fly overhead seashells scattered …
Late night walk moon is up shining leading the way off in the distance firecrackers go off anticipation summer holidays on the rise all I can think about is what it would like if you were here your hand in minewalking with me sand and seawho I am and who you would be if...I conjure …
Standing on a jetty, tide is beginning to kick up And just when a ray, a sliver of light begins to seep Between night fall and and the sun rising Dark clouds begin to part...hope does floatI'm engulfed in what could be...loveWhat I dream about; conjured memory recall But yet here I stand not truly …
Walking in a field high above the cliffs the wild flowers, bees and butterflies weave and flutter; a hypnotic dance I can hear the tide, the rise, the fall crashing against a rocky shore line at times gentle; a soothing caress my heart skips multiple beats fulfillment and longing; I am a contradictionof emotions © …
Day to day trip wire I'm walking it back and forth due to my navieté due to my vulnerability due to my insecuritieseven though the buzz has been mind numbing from time to time I have ignored the alarms blaring women's intuition off kilter trust your gut human instinct fight or flight saint or sinner sex …
He left On the white feathered Wings of Angels On an uncharacteristically Warm fall night And as my world Like the bottom dropping out Or the proverbial rug being pulled From under my feet I drifted off Where nothing was real And nothing held life With fragile hands The way it once had Prayers became …
Throwing stones broken glass splinters Tiny pieces glisten catching sunlight Just before landing captured prisms Pressed between pages Leather embossed binding Sit on a shelf A distant corner Antiquated book store - Conscious Storage and Recollections Of Data Madame Rue placed a hidden message Page 444 thirty something years ago - man of your dreams …
Trip wire side step one foot on land the other wading in a tide rising and when you pass between my sense of reality and fantasy it's an old time black and white romantic comedy in slow motionme classic widow in black garb you handsome con-man hat in handintentional filter to soften imperfections but a …
Trilby Yates 