Of all the literary
devices, my favorite
one is living.
There's no substitute.

As poets, we pull back the
curtain to our view of life.
You can shape your craft as
you go.
Metaphors will come all
over the page.
Your imagery will become
pencil-sharp and vivid.
Be patient.

If you don't have to
write, it will be easier if
you choose not to.
There are more enjoyable
activities:
***
Eating a lobster at dawn
Fishing
Swimming
Playing with your dog
or cat
*******
traveling.
Even getting your teeth
pulled can be less frustrating.

But if you must write,
you will.
Try not to ***** when
you are sick to your
stomach.

Paint a picture with
words.
Frame it with phrases.
Shine a light into the
vast darkness of mankind's
soul.
Be the light.

little Magpie, dancing your rooftop
waltz. your wingtips catch my eye

,into dizzy love, & i see one
thousand two of a kinds.

Blessed hands that held the brush so fine,
Spoke of stories yet untold in line.
Fingers that danced with vibrant hue,
Whispered secrets, as the canvas grew.

With every stroke, a tale unfolded,
Of passion, fire, and emotions bold.
The hands that painted, spoke of love,
As colors merged, sent from above.

In gentle touch, they shared a sigh,
As petals bloomed, and sunsets lit the sky.
With firm grasp, they told of might,
As mountains rose, and night descended bright.

The artist's hands, a language true,
Spoke of dreams, and all they'd do.
If you let them, they'd tell their tale,
Of beauty born, and emotions unveiled.

Their whispers echoed, as the art took shape,
A symphony of color, a heartfelt escape.
The hands that painted, spoke of soul,
A language universal, making us whole.

the first time we met
a chance encounter
on my way out the door
yet something
held me in place
your eyes keeping me
in your rose kissed grasp

we met
and i wondered
how i could already
have so much love
for one person
it was as if we'd fought together
on the same battlefield
swords clashing
shields in place
fighting for each other
again and again

maybe then
it's not too much to hope
that there is another world
in which we made it
choosing each other
above all else
a place
where roses bloom
on the bloodiest battlefields

we met
and i knew that i had loved you
in every lifetime.