poetry about beauty (Remove filter)
Wild Flowers
In the blue-green meadow
of my silent soul,
scorpion grass -
dormant for decades,
now grows wild and free,
sustaining me,
spreading love
for the aching world
to behold its beauty.
Monday 25th February 2019 3:27 am
The Self
“You’re beautiful!”
I’m sorry what?
“I said, you’re beautiful”
Why are you lying?
“You have amazing hair!”
It’s really not
“But it’s so curly.”
It tangles, it snares
I wish it straight.
“You’re beautiful!”
I’m sorry, I’m not
“But you are!”
Why do you lie?
“Your skin is flawless.”
It’s make-up
“I’m sure you don’t need it.”
You can’t se...
Sunday 5th November 2017 5:14 am
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on A Prize Miscast: A Warning to Oslo
1 minute ago
Red Brick Keshner on to be real
13 minutes ago
Graham Sherwood on "AS SURE AS GOD'S IN GLOUCESTER..."
45 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on A memoir
52 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on Le Chat noir
58 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on "AS SURE AS GOD'S IN GLOUCESTER..."
1 hour ago
John Coopey on BUCKET LIST
15 hours ago
Auracle on World On Fire
16 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on part savage, part human
19 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on Sven's soul funk
19 hours ago