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…
If passion were a color We would be wrapped In-between the awe ofPrimary and shadowThe morning light Peaks through the clouds The canyon has an echo bounce But I can never hear the rain You warn be carefulDon't fall out of the window I laugh and move closer to you The only thing I'm afraid …
October the month of pumpkins and candy corn, Witches, black cats, black hats and broom sticks "I am the granddaughter of the Witches you could not burn" A sentiment held close to my heart even when burdened The scent of allspice and clove, wishful thinking Permeate, intoxicate and spin off earthly desires Mindset, hibernation; hoping …
Morning sun rises in the east pinks and golden light gently wash over sand and sea leaves fall drops of dew glistening with song sea grass bend with ease. I close my eyes feeling warmth on my skin. Safely I sway. Branches reaching bare boned fingers of Father Time wisdom pointing to a euphoric sensation …
Early morning sun begins to wake up Arm reaching yawn splintered beams of light stretch across the horizon While a lazy lapping of the tide comes and goes repeating a pattern in perfect sync with the pull of the moon, as it faithfully orbits the earth Off in the distance a curved line remains a …
First yawn of summer A slight breeze The air is warm and cloaked In an early morning walk I hear the surround sound Of a bird’s song As insects dance above Blades of silky green Threads spider webs Weave across the lawn While flowers tire of being in full bloom After spring’s burst of joie …
Early morning, a few blinking street lights off in the distance Red flashing color slices its way through the darkness; "...stop don't rush the day has not dawned yet..." Perfection in, just bitter enough coffee with a dash of cinnamon - aroma therapy a sentimental tapping into a holiday season that has always resonated peace …
Trilby Yates 