Poet & Storyteller ✨
Her heart was made of liquid sunsets 🌅 - Virginia Woolf
On the precipice As the wave finally crests– A new beginning
By Joelle E N3 years ago in Poets
Moonlight Dark night Jasmine blooming Small and bright Little voice Find the light Why are the best things always in black and white
Two roads diverged in the fog of dusk. I took one whose ending I could not see With no desire to be baptized by fire Just a hunch toward whatever called to me
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” – Robert Frost Your heart makes my heart Sing a little song Your heart makes my heart
breathe in breathe out morning light no doubt • find me in the purple haze the dawn that sets the dark ablaze • so much of life feels so uncertain
You say my freckles are like stars For once, I see them as they are: Windows to my truest face Not giveaways of my disgrace
I want to be with you in the daylight When the curtain goes down and the tragedy ends I want to stand with you in the sunlight
What do you know about being a dead man walking What do you know about sitting in the dark What do you know about rubbing your hands together
Orphan of the night Sitting alone on the riverbank, in the streetlamp’s spotlight Wondering what he did to deserve to be here
A poem is not so much a writing as a rewriting: Each word a stitch Applying a balm to the wounds of the past As it sews the skin back together.
Coffee in my hair Starlight in my pocket I feel you everywhere I keep you in a locket Dawn, you’re the anchor of my days
The dawn is an imprint on my eyes The stars and the dark sit in my heart I know I’m near the sunrise now Even if we feel miles apart
