Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of the deep dark soil
Old smells of peat and fertilizer mingled with aromas of earth and moisture
Overhead, the sun poured light down, saturating the field
The seeds there were snuggling underneath their cozy brown blanket
So many people wondered why she chose to be a farmer, but this was where she had her…
An army to the east and another to the west
That made his position in the middle very problematic
The command had told him to flee and save as many of his troops as he could
And that was tempting, but this was the small town his wife had grown up in
Couldn’t leave her family and friends to become at most a footnote in history
Knowing it was futile, he gave the order to charge. Maybe it would give them enough time to escape.
So many thorns that he couldn’t touch without being pricked intimidated him
Perhaps that was what was intended, but he wouldn’t let that deter him
It just made the pursuit of that simple touch that much more exciting
Knowing one false move, one wrong twitch would leave him sore and bleeding
Except when he finally got through and she smiled… it was worth all the pain
How many souls could she steal before the moon reached full?
Each one a jewel in her crown as a master thief
It was why she found herself in this pub drinking a warm beer
So many people here she could work her trade upon
The only problem they all had already had their souls stolen by their job, sport, or vice
Being sick is always sucky, especially when it’s your stomach and intestines
Listing there aimlessly, hoping for the internal torment to subside
And yet all you can do is moan and hope for a break in your condition
How many times can you count the bathroom tiles?
Never was he farther away physically from her
Every day he felt that emptiness when he woke up
And no matter how many times he got to call her, it was never enough
Reaching his decision, he booked his flight. Money is great, but being there was priceless
All of Jessie’s life could be seen in the lines engraved into his face
They told of the many laughs and smiles, the tears and anger, written throughout the years
Looking in the mirror, he reminisced a life lived hard
As he traced those wrinkles, he wondered about the upcoming Botox injection and smoothing it all over
Soul searching if he really wanted to lose that history… Jessie left with his map intact
Many hands make the chore light
And that was his philosophy through life
Reaching out with his hands to help all those he could
Keeping to this up even as he passed, so many came to celebrate him, it made his passing easier.
How many times can you do the same thing
And do you get the wanted dopamine hit for each?
Bet it is a series of diminishing returns
It should make you want to do it even less
That would be nice, but no, you crave want more
So you do it again, well, because…
Coming violently together was their usual M.O.
Obliterating everyone and everything around them with such a release of energy
Love contains almost limitless potential energy waiting to be continuously released, but…
Lust was a poor substitute with so many limits
It would be expended so quickly in a blink of an eye
Deforming each of their spirits, leaving permanent dents therein
Eventually becoming as cold as the void that remained.
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
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Never Short On Words 