Turn your fears into excitement.Your anxieties into enthusiasm. Your passion into energy.
lean in to kiss mein all the placeswhere the acheis the most special.
i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
Some days I don't know what is greater.My wisdom, or my stupidity.
I find it incredibly amazing how at every sunset, the sky is a different shade. No cloud is ever in the same place. Each day is a new masterpiece. A new wonder. A new memory.
The magic fades too fastthe scent of summer never lasts the nights turn hollow and vast but nothing remains...nothing lasts.
Fall in lovewith the energyof the morningstrace your fingers along the lullof the afternoonstake the spirit of the eveningsin your armskiss it deeply and thenmake loveto the tranquilityof the nights.
your gazeacrossmy cheeksturned theminto strawberry fields.
Poems are invisible flowers on my skin.
the sapphire depthof my own love...startlesand warmsand wounds my soul.
We hold on to poetry because it lights a fire in our soul and keeps our bodies warm.
in a worldfull oftemporary thingsyou area perpetual feeling.
When you left you left behind a fieldof silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterfliesmid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh a...
someday i will walk under the soul-blossom tree with my hand eternally woven in yours.
It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.
the onewho will jolt awakeall the unwrittenthe unsungand the unlived in me. i am waitingfor him.
A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.
be the kiss in my hairthat no one seesmove, when i movesigh, when i sigh...be that line from a poemthat i hold in my eyes.
all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.
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