To lay still, as a poetic soul caught up in an ocean of reflection and contemplation. To hold still and listen to the story twirling in a melody spin at the edge of the cliff. There is a forest, yes, a forest fire building and caressing the edges of my mind Those imaginary friends…
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Miss Midnight
Oh, Miss Midnight. The splendid marvels in the sky are such a rarity to me. An exhibition of heavenly curiosity. Imagination set up in the grace of allurement. Stunning display of wonder. A sensation of passion spreading through the gleam of your eyes. I write best late at night. When no one is around, and…
Nebula Eyes
Penetrating with the color that only you could prefer. Charismatic in a compelling way of charm. Full of a glowing observance that never looks away. Captivating like the ocean, but it is not the waves that you see. It is a galaxy, with a sparkle that only the stars could match. Layers of thought hidden…
3 a.m. Thoughts
What would it be like if I wasn’t a writer? To not wake up in the early hours. When the stars are still out, and the moon is taking its turn to explore. Where I cannot fall back into the darkness of sleep because I have too many ideas knocking at the door of my…
The Unsigned Writer 