A Foreword Between Friends

 

I have spent many years dreaming of this day. Publishing one’s own work, opening one’s heart to the scrutiny of others, is no meager task. A long journey has led me here, and I rejoice in knowing this is only the beginning. The goal of each piece of work ahead was to express my feelings in a safe and positive way. Some are poems in rhythm and rhyme; some are short stories, drabbles if you will. Others are written agape, without boundaries or rules. May each line spark through you the emotions; may you feel. Such is the glory of humanity.

 

- Whitney

 

Your Eyes Are Not Ugly

You are the beautiful things that haunt the night; sounds that ring out, kissing eardrums carefully.

You are the Music in the dark; the sweet, satin lullaby caressing the world alive.

You are the Ocean’s graceful tide; sweeping in, cleansing every grain of sand it tosses.

You are the Sun in all His glory; powerful fires, allowing the warmth of life across my cheek.

You are the sweet light the Moon allows; pale shining, drizzling moonbeams over restless nights.

You are the depths of the gentlest mountains; ruggedly strong, unshakeable in the heat of battle.

You are Hope, riding fast on the brink of Dawn; dazzling sights, morning lights rushing to kiss me awake.

You are the wonder gifted by the Stars; faithfully consistent, a constant reminder of praise in the sky.

You are the resonance of Love between parting lovers; a morning last, butterfly kisses on cheeks between the sheets.

You are such glorifying brightness amongst the shadows; casting them aside, illuminating the path before us.

You are the essence of the Universe; Live free, love well.

In ways you can never understand,I see you. I see the perfection, molded with intention by Fate.

I see the beauty of you.  And you will never know just how beautiful you are to me.

You are such brilliance; Sparkling blues, filled to the brim with curiosity and mischief.

 

- If you haven’t learned that your eyes aren’t ugly, then I have failed.

 

Dark Dancing

 The sun, Sol, has risen and fallen. His time has come and gone. A new player enters the field
. It is Luna's turn to dance across the black velvet sky. Stars twinkle into view, creating
a glistening array of sequins. The Mockingbird sings his last song as the Nightingale takes
his place. She sings of Love and Wisdom, traits of Luna. The crickets chirp, the fireflies
dance across the dew-sparkled lawn, and the Nightingale sings.

Scars

The survivors.

Yes, that's what we call ourselves.

                               We've lived through the terrors of life.
Gentle hands, soft-spoken, safe in his arms.

                       Obey, and listen, and the swirling melody of love plays throughout the scene.

           And yet, this masquerade is always broken to reveal the truth

Words sharper than daggers explode around our ears. Bruises appear on our skin. 

                      We've "fallen", the clumsy womenfolk we are.

We

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.01.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7438-5112-2

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
I'd like to leave this dedication open to every single sweetheart who's ever gandered my words and begged me for more. Every word of this, every step of this journey, has been for you. In your name, I give you the most beautiful sound I could muster besides the chur of your voice; peals of thunder.