

Summer SnowA gentle breeze came up, softly blowing against my cheeks and pushing back the tips of the green grass. It sent hundreds of ripples through the verdant field and I felt them brush against my skin and clothes in perfect rhythm. My eyes were pointed upward at a clear blue sky and caught the dancing clouds flowing across the sky. Great shadows formed from the stray pieces of white in the blue ocean above as they slowly shifted through the suns rays. When a shadow passed over my body, I closed my eyes and my mind was at peace, releasing itself from all the worries of daily life.Summer Snow
As my


Bell of FablesFate lays still in sleep And only lives in dreams deep Becoming legend E L Left alone to end Existing in memory Soft sounds ring gentlyBell of Fables


Library AsylumI wander down dusty shelves Wondering what I will find Staring at the wondrous volumes Not a single one of them mineLibrary Asylum
I am the thief of knowledge Walking upon the truths edge
I finger a worn down novel My favorite storybook Filled with magic and daring quests With only a single look
I am the eternal dreamer Lost within a fantasy
I rest within the oldest shelves Surrounded by many tomes My intention is to never leave This world that never roams
I am the sleeping sage Content with an empty page &nbs


On Summer's EdgeWithin Summers end do I hide Among warm whispers and soft light Where tender thoughts and breaths collide And your beauty is in my sightOn Summer's Edge
I hold you within memory A time when you were still with me
I walk on the edge of seasons Where Autumn and Summer do meet Hidden in souls with no reasons Where we lost ourselves in the heat
Losing control over you, over me A scene I did not want to be
Concealed in Summers shade I sleep Resting a broken, tattered soul Falling into my dreams so deep Where there only exists a lull &n


Angry poetsThe anger swells like inflated limbs tossed in the shuffle of animalisticAngry poets
dancing; we march to the rhythm of
our guerrilla tactics; move from the bedroom to the kitchen before he hears; speak absently, while whispering
'cause he might be listening.
We are mad; our blood runs thick through our veins... we bleed the same way. We're flesh and blood,
fresh or coagulated... it's still red and as thick as our accent filtering through our poetic musings when we recite and scream
rhymes we recycle.
--
miss-pooh
--
365Tomorrows - A new piece of short SciFi fiction each day
^lovetodeviate : Resources for Writers
dA is for the literary arts, too.
--
Sometimes if you gonna do something good, you must gonna do something bad...
--
The sound of your footsteps makes a beautiful melody.
It's like ripples spreading out on a clear lake.
I watch your solemn form retreating,
Wishing I could listen to that sound forever.
-Kotoko, 'Kirei na Senritsu' (Rough Translation)
*keeps it forever*
s'just the truth though, I really enjoy your work
--
The sound of your footsteps makes a beautiful melody.
It's like ripples spreading out on a clear lake.
I watch your solemn form retreating,
Wishing I could listen to that sound forever.
-Kotoko, 'Kirei na Senritsu' (Rough Translation)
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