Poems from our forums and relationships found…
“A single rose can be my garden… a single friend, my world.”
“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”
Featured Poem: One Word Is Too Often Profaned
By: Percy Bysshe Shelley
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it;
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother;
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.
I can give not what men call love;
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the heavens reject not,
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?
Poems from our Forums:
By: Lamar Cole
Something mystical happened today.
I felt your touch.
Even though you’re far away.
I felt your hands upon my face.
It seemed as though your sweet lips.
I could taste.
It seemed as if I could feel your embrace.
It took me to a wonderful place
Because even when you’re far away.
I feel your love in every way.
Love, darling, is you.
Your love cascaded down the waterfalls of your heart.
To my thirsty soul.
Your love filled the crevices of my life.
Your love is my lighthouse.
My beacon in the night.
I found home in your heart.
Short Story Topics – Roll of the Dice
What if our life did depend on the roll of a dice? A gambling woman would carry around her own dice. Every move, every call, she makes is determined by her roll. Each option is assigned a number that corresponds to the dots on the dice. One means she takes the bus to work; Five indicates she takes her bike. This is not always the best method, but she rolls them every day…she needs to roll them everyday.
What event in her life triggered this behavior? Why is she bound to keep on rolling? Has she ever stopped trying? If she did, what happened? Did she lose her job? Did she lose a loved one? Did she go back a few spaces and start this round of her life over again…same house, same car, same trials and tribulations.
What would the roll of the dice bring if it was on the edge? Does the woman wish to even think about it? Where did these dice come from? Who had them before her? Can she get rid of them? Or, do they end when her streak ends? Decide on the story, and write. Post it here, or share elsewhere, but write and enjoy…
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