• Sunday word hunter,  To beloved ones

    Kaboom

    Precisely, on these kind of times I do, I do regret losing you. But then I think and believe it was the best, so you wouldn’t end up hurt. I had to release you from my curse, my stupid mouth is the princess of kaboom. I don’t need to tell you, for you know already as much. I can’t bear myself, cause I can’t hold my mighty stupid arrogance. I so hope you grew tired of me, leaving to fly in those fine feathers. I witnessed, ruffled in the wind, soaring the beauty of hard earned skills. Pure delight, your colours in my mind. Fair lines.

  • Sunday word hunter,  To beloved ones

    Where from

    Where has this fire come from? It’s percolated subtle, In the warm blood of spring rains. Unconscious camouflaged and unnoticed. Where does this noise come from? Disharmonious; Your tell-tale voice of sweet, unlikely twit. It came like death. Latched on to me; Becoming true, Certain with tik-tak as time. Not even now I suspect myself diseased. Flooding of space; My time submerged in countless but gradual signs; Silently walking in a dainty smell of familiarity. So was liking you, Like night tide; Slow but sudden. An unexpected pool full of me, falling in love. Faded in love.