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
She cuddled up to him under the covers
Pulling her body along his to get warm
Outside the wind blew and the cold rain fell
Outside the chaos of jobs and bills demanded attention and yet…
None of that mattered. They were together in that moment
Silicon beds abound with bivalves
Hidden under a blanket of warm tropical water
Every wave akin to a gentle breeze that brings savory delights
Letting the colony feast on the bounty of the surrounding sea
Life might suck, but for an ocean filter, that means you are living large!
Wanting to feel the heat of her breath
As she whispers in my ear
Raising goosebumps on my arms… You know what?
Maybe I’ll finish this poem later
Silently the sun crosses the deep blue expanse
Keeping the ground below bathed in its warm glow
Yet my fingers and toes don’t feel the love
Hearth is happily crackling, telling a tale of mirth
Yielding a soft warm glow into the room
Gifting a cozy sense of calm and comfort
Grafting the coming season to your soul
Entombing negative feelings for another time, another place
Dominic looked at his fouled sneakers
It had started so simply that morning
Snuggling in his warm covers as the sunlight crept into the window
Getting up he put on his running gear and headed out to the trail
Under the red and orange leaves he began to jog
Soon his breath was ragged as he pushed himself harder and farther
That was when he felt that dreaded hard intestinal clenching
It made him stop and look around, but there were people everywhere
Now he tried to walk back, but about half way there he lost the battle
Giving the term “the runs” an added meaning
Rock ‘n roll blaring out the speakers
As her convertible rattled down the old dirt road
Determined to enjoy one of the last warm fall days they sang along
If her and her girlfriend were off key, they didn’t care
Only thing that mattered was what song was next
Wearing the itchy stuff seemed such a hassle
Of course, when it was cold outside it was nice and warm
On the account of rain, socks made of it were bliss
Looks like being itchy was the price to pay for happiness
Image 2.bp.blogspot.com/-RUS9-Jauw0I/WTXiIqWH5HI/AAAAAAAAgQs/fu_c9FPIYnIIIAh1p_QbzNql7EIk7jQPgCLcB/s1600/wool%2Bfiber.jpg
Creamy mac and cheese gooeyness winked at her from the plate
Ordering it had been a close thing.
More often than not she would have just gotten the salad
Fork discarded, she hefted her spoon
Outside world faded away as she hefted the golden goodness into her mouth
Relishing as her tastebuds fully validated her decision
That’s when she felt the warm and fuzzies from her head to her toes.
Image: thechunkychef.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/Ultimate-Creamy-Baked-Mac-and-Cheese-feat-1-440×500.jpg
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Tagline
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
AUTHOR
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.
Story world
SkEtChEs of my everyday life through tiny words, artworks, quotes, clips, and snapshots--- capturing a moment in time.
Never Short On Words 