Winged, Poetry & Art Photo's for Tuesday, March 3, 2009

By Winged - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Ribbons, bows and pink lace...

No ribbons, bows or pink lace, only curly long locks around my freckled face, I don’t want dolls or to play with others, I only want to dress up and go to town, Mom and Pop’s spent too much time arguing, too many empty whiskey bottles, upset furniture, messes for me to clear up, and too many trips... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 7:50 AM | add or view comments (3) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Before taking on the personality of a moth, I was seduced

into waiting like every other woman for her man in the garden of true love, a dark place I cannot walk away from, a madness has taken over, through weeping lids half of me was cursing you, while a female willow trembled knowingly, when she moaned a little, the hairs on my wrist stood up and... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 7:33 AM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

A year a'head, a flower unblown, a book unread:

A Tree with fruit unharvested: A Path untrod: A House whose rooms Lack yet the heart's divine perfumes: A landscape whose wide border lies in silent shade "neath silent skies: A wondrous Fountain yet unsealed: A casket with its gifts concealed - - This is the Year that for you waits Beyond... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 7:13 AM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

Growing Love

When I was a child, it was my mom I loved the best, When I was a teenager, I began questioning, was I worthy to befriend? As a young single mother, I wondered if I was worthy of another love? Now in the winter of my years, snug under my covers warm and tight, my inner poet whispers in my ears at... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Winged at 7:09 AM | add or view comments (0) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry

March 2009
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About this Blog

The Passage of time. Down here on the third rock from the Sun, self-expression is our genius and we must not be talked out of it.I enjoy using pictures and writing to speak for me. I especially enjoy letting others revisit their own lives when reading mine and looking at my photo's.

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