tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13840505895024630452024-02-20T09:49:24.330-08:00Still young Still curiouslovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-657373698800741762009-02-15T13:58:00.000-08:002010-01-24T03:05:02.136-08:00Tears hurt. Alot.<br />They sting.<br />I often try to push them back in with the palms of my hands,<br />But they trickle down my wrists.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I've felt a lot of hurt the last few days.<br />However, there's also been a lot of love too.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/3282416566/"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3637/3282416566_82492abbd7_m.jpg" /></a>Italian meals; bruschetta, pasta, pesto, olives, nyumm. Walks in the night in the snow. Drinking amaretto & guiness & munching cupcakes, with a kitty to keep us company. A new teapot. Chocolates. Flower fairies. Cutting & sticking tissue paper & photobooth photos. Cuddles & kisses. Developing Diana F+ photos; the unexpectedness, the nerves, the excitement. Father dearest's 50th birthday. Balloons. Presents. Football scoreboard birthday wishes. Crab with apple salad. Divine chocolate mousse. So good, so good.lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-79086400223818900432009-02-03T06:22:00.000-08:002009-02-03T06:31:04.414-08:00Staring out into the ocean I can see where I want to be.<br /><br />Anywhere but here.<br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3433/3250691498_46fe92cdf3_m.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p></p><p align="right"><span style="font-size:78%;">(taken with a Lubitel 2)</span></p>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-87690666223552397742009-01-27T03:58:00.000-08:002010-08-28T13:31:07.437-07:00Plans.<div>Today is just a day, where I will go to a 60s America lecture & sit still for 3 hours.<br /><br />Tomorrow, I <em>will</em> buy some penny sweets & take some more photos with my diana f+. Then fly away home.<br /><br />On Thursday, I am seeing Jeremy Warmsley with my <a href="http://elephantteapot.blogspot.com/">friend </a>from home.<br /><br />On Friday, I will make wake up with him which is just simply the bestest feeling ever.<br /><br />On Saturday, I go to the football with my little cousins & giant little brother.<br /><br />On Sunday, I will eat, drink & be merry with my family before returning to Kent.<br /><br />Me & faux-big brother are talking of going to Brighton.<br /><br />Then <em>he</em> might come see me here, before I go home again in two weeks for our Valentine's Day & my Daddy Dearest's 50th.<br /><br />I'm quite excited. :)</div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295948718579475010" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlK2MXdpPogvlEkPYVCBg1VFmzTRSeyyCKJz16iUk5gNpaba1PclqS1crgzm_mQt_C21ovQ-dy3Iz_4tgZ1uKeaxr_nkW9qjdUT85j_TBu01JPWv_GAP3Cp43bRUlBl1MPh1G9Unk90c4/s320/P1000378.JPG" border="0" />lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-24704382885615179322009-01-26T09:11:00.000-08:002009-01-26T09:19:40.647-08:00<div>My mind is quite elsewhere.</div><div></div><br /><div>It's two and a half years in the future whizzing through Russia on a train. Or admiring old cathedrals and art in Europe. Purchasing cute things in Tokyo. Sleeping in a campervan by the beach in Australia & New Zealand. Dancing in the bright colours of Rio. The wind whipping through my hair on Route 66. Kissing my lover in various faraway locations.</div><div></div><br /><div>However, my mind should be in Anglo Saxon England. Or American in the sixties.</div><div></div><br /><div>Sometimes my mind just takes a holiday a few weeks in the future to Valentine's Day. Hershey's kisses, pink champagne truffles, "Love, Please" poetry, jewelery, hearts confetti, black & white kisses, cutting & sticking, dressed up dresses, hands in hands, skin on skin, sleepy eyes, sleeping beauty, his dreamy face.</div><div></div><br /><div>I think I want to make a scrapbook. Of things that are dear to me. & things that are constantly flying through my head. I'd need the perfect blank book. To destroy & prettify.</div><div></div><br /><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3081/3229130552_126928ee9b_m.jpg" border="0" /></div>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-31863979871296694652009-01-21T06:10:00.000-08:002010-08-28T13:33:53.082-07:00Shine.<div><div><div>In the morning I read something yesterday about a man who lost his first love to cancer.<br />I wept softly as it was so beautiful & so heartwrenchingly sad.<br /><br />In the evening I watched Steel Magnolias.<br />I wept so hard for it was so terrible, but then I shook with laughter.<br /><br />Laughter through tears is indescribably nice.<br />Your body's confused as to what to do so you shake & sniff & smile.<br />It's wonderful.<br /><br />Today, I listened to a song I had never heard before by an artist I've adored for too long.<br />The song made me glow & beam & shine.<br />Gorgeous gorgeous engulfing feelings.<br /><br />The sun shone through my windows today.<br />I think it's trying to tell me it will all be okay.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/3214615681/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293751157003525666" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px; height: 205px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit1cQu-39fmuRSYsxGdP670WpJRzYI_ljwCWNTln571HopeHUridWMrfiQO7ygtOIVM5hVV_TVCJ9i2h6LAbXbilcFiKibxrJo1TUOC5PogeIzddXGncX-MsCkqCbi9nRSt4_BYPMwfwI/s320/Leaves.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-2160261293278891072009-01-11T12:02:00.000-08:002010-08-28T13:39:21.563-07:00Secret Fairy Wishes.I made them. I did, I did.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>I wished for nice glittery sweet things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Flying by train is always a good way to fly.</div><div>On the foggiest of foggy days.</div><div>To Constable Country. The Dedham Vale.</div><div>It was not quite as beautiful as Mister J. Constable's paintings.</div><div>His visions were shrouded with a grey veil.</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>I wore my old wellington boots.</div><div>& I managed not to fall over in the mud.<br /></div><div></div><div>I took my jar full of sequins & glitter<br />& my little paper wishes<br />& threw them into the river.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3133/3187839791_2d03802ccf_m.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3379/3187681253_c052ca7905_m.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3445/3188537988_8ba0bbcd23_m.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3103/3188636168_4fa245b001_m.jpg" border="0" /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/3188662290_cd1df82013_m.jpg" border="0" /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3365/3187846381_5db10b895c_m.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3374/3188691978_621867cbaa_m.jpg" border="0" /><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 180px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3402/3187847657_5eba42fb41_m.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>An inspirational project: <a href="http://secretfairywishes.blogspot.com/">http://secretfairywishes.blogspot.com/</a></p><p>The rest of my photos: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/sets/72157612442761644/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/sets/72157612442761644/</a></p>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-29188718530877197492009-01-04T06:26:00.000-08:002010-08-28T13:41:08.069-07:00With a bag full of amaretti wrappers & a pocket full of dreams & eyes full of glitter.<br />We took the train to lands not-so-new, to wander.<br />My ma & my pa told me to wrap up warm, so I don't float away.<br />I told my love that he was the one who might float away.<br />He said it was me. Like a balloon.<br />We have to hold on tight.<br /><br />Spaghetti bolognaise & Tiramisuuuuu.<br />Watson & Crick.<br />His cold hands & my gloves.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287445960856090754" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGpBGM7nBdxdGTbfbbrqwyzJh10U_jSQA5cBhbmLrh7TN9B9sqMGv23SmsOGLonHo3sw_14hyphenhyphenupRusUsQUtZAF8lQiadQJLr-cpoM_hVOG1bYb1yPWzn9aUbIUEdwbxec4q1s4tPCkvE/s320/DSCF4550.JPG" border="0" />lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-86803121722206361182008-12-20T16:55:00.000-08:002008-12-20T17:32:43.878-08:00Tonight before I go to sleep I'm going to eat some cheese so I will have wild, fantastical dreams.<br />Wensleydale & cranberry. My favourite.<br />Or perhaps second favourite to white stilton & cranberry.<br /><br />Women will dance in beautiful candy coloured ballgowns to a gloomy waltz.<br />They'll dance with bears in suits with feathers on the shoulders.<br />Peacocks will walk around the edge of the dancefloor.<br />The King Wolf & Queen Fox will oversee everything.<br /><br />A girl with dark dark brown hair will stroll through a pretty meadow.<br />In silver shoes & white knee high socks & too-big jumper dress.<br />Unbeknown to her, she steps in to a ring of daisies.<br />She shrinks to the size of a toadstool & grows airy fairy wings.<br /><br />Lost in a ruined castle at night, she stumbles across the crumbling walls.<br />The full moon shines through the windows.<br />She cannot find the way out but she does not stop looking, deep sharp breaths.<br />The noises of the night are unfriendly & cruel.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282047499694663474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWHzoes69HGRN9TYjcrCaU2UyAHZ2E_pNAGcuH35srB8xyP7mgfRWI3OzhqGxChvdCFIVTFOaUtGAYG06iW1EH_9oZQtFznGV61os4R9xnzk4Ox4Y2ytJIeAQ0ktyM7tDLH3q8xy44aY/s320/DSC01663.JPG" border="0" />lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-24431283284127573222008-12-14T10:21:00.000-08:002008-12-14T10:33:50.258-08:00Pearly whites biting into decadence.<br />Rose cream all over my nose.<br />Demolishing every crumb<br />and devouring every layer.<br />I kept the rose petal off the top. <div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279713131229869010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRiRFzEGiIAmnNFCGKytXI5mmGosl3l1IhFj1SM_ydjpIH6v_XprjkJdlUbkdNEUCN9h-d41KLYuar8EluL4E5ulAIh4nAuG0JIcyOTdOlSrQgOmIcCg1eEMkUCbFcIIIU1bs4_mWozg/s320/DSC01454.JPG" border="0" /> </div><div></div><div></div><div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>On Wednesday, I went to London Town with my love. He bought me this rose-framboise saint honoré. I gave him a box of homemade mince pies. We went to the theatre, darling, and I wore<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikvIXZcoZESycmfzn0WnZ-9kARqtX556Hfv_oinLxCMMCSbAdAEGor8KsW38yVqcDLU2KJJN2GQimiQul5JeBjoD_rau-voFPdbsa7qPhEIgCzUwzeQTyx4eowGoyvwoLe0Sp5oSZh2nU/s1600-h/DSC01494.JPG"></a> my new flowery skirt with all the frills. I now have designs on Paris. I want to go in the Winter and wrap up warm in wooly tights over my frilly skirt, and a warm<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkfrelm-BnqpK-n9lswHPKU3lzT9wOsTO_hQeWepECHDrDXJowNuN0o1NDMR3Y5l9Kmv7Nk6UV5zF0fdpqev_NrKj-4jYPx5QWC0zDHr7qN5pyLCDxTLUPp-MdxGKllBE5a8sqlrOgBo/s1600-h/DSC01494.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279714355034750722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZkfrelm-BnqpK-n9lswHPKU3lzT9wOsTO_hQeWepECHDrDXJowNuN0o1NDMR3Y5l9Kmv7Nk6UV5zF0fdpqev_NrKj-4jYPx5QWC0zDHr7qN5pyLCDxTLUPp-MdxGKllBE5a8sqlrOgBo/s200/DSC01494.JPG" border="0" /></a> cardigan over a waistcoat and vest top. I want to see all the sights and eat lots of beautiful cream cakes. I will conquer Paris in my pixie boots and gloves, with my camera in hand.</div><div><br />I ventured outside earlier for the first time in what seems forever as I have not been very well. The world on a Winter afternoon is so enthralling and beautiful. The dark silhouette of a tree against the almost-night sky. The rows of houses with their windows lit up with Christmas trees. I simply cannot wait to go home.</div><div><br />This Christmas I am wishing for "The Milk Eyed Mender" LP, lots of polaroid and 120 film, a teacup and saucer,"Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" CD, Paul & Joe make-up, "Little Women" DVD, cocoa body butter, ribbons, a wooly hat, Charbonnel & Walker pink champagne truffles, a Diana F+, "The Little White Bird", a thermos, a waistcoat, glitter, watercolours, a new moleskine, a nice copy of "The Wind in the Willows", and some sugar mice. Not all of these though. I am not greedy! </div><br /><div>I hope all of you out there get what you are wishing for this Christmas. </div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279713794376133682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu4-zuM6mfXaJXMyXMFy-_9GxqYPi1wkdtPqM-LqEE9eyB5Hc3xDD_GfK2n91_MJOMVo8lKT6IXceixVvmN2ArP7ISDXjh59VFe5bOWLp0x17iJVjwf_XUI9wnNADHyxacGWcnKcSYpwk/s320/DSC01337.JPG" border="0" /> <div></div><div><br />P.S. I have been <a href="http://secretfairywishes.blogspot.com/">fairy tagged </a>by the wonderful <a href="http://rosieposierosie.blogspot.com/">Rosie Posie Rosie</a>, but I will have to wait a wee while as I am writing horrible essays this week.</div></div>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-57713421610505229002008-12-07T13:52:00.000-08:002008-12-07T14:05:03.796-08:00At fairy parties they eat cream topped off with many coloured sugary sweet sprinkles. Strawberries too. <div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277171115583179986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0RcLPbZm5h6uYEUfu4oi9Mk13fjWeEKPqV2aHu6utAqA5Twz7VvqCS_BCxx5_68SV6Q24PmzMt4dmON_Em82y_m38kdZTxdBBNeY3Lkkw0sAJKYFfra5wREekOMelHQl4Rj5I62Dhc8/s320/DSC00955.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>They can sometimes be rather decadent and pop open a bottle of Krug. Or cocktails tasting like marzipan. They drink it out of acorns. They dance and dance the night away and descend into new sparkly realms in all their revelry.</div><div><br />When the moon shines they all pause and stare in wonder for it is so very beautiful. Then dots of white fall from the sky. The first snow. They flit up high, riding on snowflakes. And we stare in wonder for it is so very beautiful.</div></div></div>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-67226122370315053572008-12-03T10:36:00.001-08:002010-08-28T13:48:08.510-07:00Delicate.Just wanting someone to want me.<br />Someone to need me.<br />Like a cult 90s song.<br /><br />Someone who could not bare to be without you.<br />To be the girl he can't get out of his mind.<br />Ever.<br /><br />A love so fierce and so strong that it could go on forever.<br />No one need question that.<br />You know it will, both of you do.<br /><br />Your heart bleeds, pours.<br />Consuming engulfing love.<br />Knowing you both feel it.<br /><br />Like the way a Damien Rice song,<br />makes my skin electric.<br />Knowing you both feel it.<br /><br />"We might live like never before.<br />When there's nothing to give. <a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3226/3032828722_028bf6474c_t.jpg"></a><br />Well how can we ask for more."lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-81691489930085798722008-12-01T10:41:00.000-08:002008-12-01T11:20:17.922-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHVHx2AePMO2KAkVaT7y_22whXyuvEYnXH5Fra3dfGcqR0qtr1YTxO6zLiH74aOeax2lMfFtqemqPJgDqEpcdkoO3hScQ1GuclUwOmN76bU2NDuqctNFJ0Mhed3lKRYUXHCgqBNsw1jUo/s1600-h/DSC01235.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274900210243998114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHVHx2AePMO2KAkVaT7y_22whXyuvEYnXH5Fra3dfGcqR0qtr1YTxO6zLiH74aOeax2lMfFtqemqPJgDqEpcdkoO3hScQ1GuclUwOmN76bU2NDuqctNFJ0Mhed3lKRYUXHCgqBNsw1jUo/s200/DSC01235.JPG" border="0" /></a>Today, I flew south.<br /><br />I am growing a cotton plant. I've seen it grow from a teeny tiny seed up to it's whole inch tall height.<br /><br />I am eating chocolate bean soup. I am, I am. It is so good.lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-41442846800096091512008-11-28T14:46:00.000-08:002008-12-01T15:21:17.148-08:00I bought a notebook to write a story in. The one that has been rattling around my head. It does not make sense. I do not know <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ckrx7Vi0d6qhtEBFXPU5e07y3vK5WiDG_m-H9ZRPPsP3Dv1eSa_VGV6uJRpAbcJURdisZjpSk8g3Nc6Sg0Qk1L6s7tLLU63AzD52Fya8radh_pfQdEj5nFId5GSLVXOD6Voi7aMNfJ4/s1600-h/DSC01157.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274469231817058770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ckrx7Vi0d6qhtEBFXPU5e07y3vK5WiDG_m-H9ZRPPsP3Dv1eSa_VGV6uJRpAbcJURdisZjpSk8g3Nc6Sg0Qk1L6s7tLLU63AzD52Fya8radh_pfQdEj5nFId5GSLVXOD6Voi7aMNfJ4/s200/DSC01157.JPG" border="0" /></a>where it is going. I do not know where it is taking me. When walking along over damp pathways in my pixie coat, as my Pa calls it, watching the sky drizzle over the little city, I find it consumes me. Thoughts run around my brain like cheeky little imps distracting me from what is real. But I thank those little dears as I so love escaping with them. Girls walk together in teadresses and boots to go have tea and petits fours & confide their most secret wishes. Loves and passions are wished for. Some are doomed. Others are not. Adventures are always around the corner. As they should be.lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-4697190600527584172008-11-27T06:18:00.000-08:002008-11-28T16:29:32.858-08:00Cleansing.Pearly limbs crossed underneath me.<br />I feel the cool spray on my back.<br />Beads of water trickle down my body.<br />Tiny waterfalls form, cascading off my nose.<br />My eyelashes too.<br />Watching them carefully I feel like I'm creating them myself.<br /><br />I imagine the waterfall above me.<br />A stream flowing over a mossy rock & pouring over me.<br />The rocky walls on either side of me reach so high I cannot see the sky.<br />There are trees leaning at the top.<br />Vines down the sides.<br /><br />I see sparkles in my eyes.<br />Are they here to help me? Or to hinder me?<br />Dancing about, gliding across the pool of water.<br /><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1233/730620184_798cb6dc09_m.jpg"></a>I am transfixed.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/730620184/" title="050720071060 by lovebirds & seahorses, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1233/730620184_798cb6dc09_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="050720071060" /></a></div>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-52083873925268023422008-11-19T17:04:00.000-08:002008-11-19T17:06:58.913-08:00I see fairies in the corners of my eyes.<br /><br />I swear I do.<br /><br />I truly do.<br /><br />They dance for me.<br /><br />Little sparkles.<br /><br />But when I turn to see them clearly,<br /><br />they fly-a-fly-away.lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-38958308637101264492008-11-17T07:27:00.000-08:002008-11-17T07:36:37.389-08:00I don’t know what you are trying to say. But I like it.<br />I’m hearing the words. I see your lips move.<br />The sound is flowing around me and through me. But it has not made its impact.<br />I could listen to you for hours. I guess it’s the vibrations.<br />The conviction that you speak with. Why can I not talk like that?<br />Your equals nod and agree. Or they don’t. They understand it on both levels.<br />But I? I catch it on a different wave.<br />A tiny white ceramic milk jug infinitely pouring over me. & I understand.<br />Your greatness.lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1384050589502463045.post-21085511141520084312008-11-12T16:12:00.000-08:002010-08-28T13:53:03.054-07:00A beginning, perhaps.So I’ve got this pen and an array of notebooks. Pretty pretty notebooks. And that pen, it’s pink. Hot hot pink. Hot like a hot chocolate with just-starting-to-melt marshmallows. But the notebooks are not written in. The pen hovers there waiting. The words never feel quite good enough. Will they go anywhere? I think at this point, it does not really matter. It’s time to take a plunge.<br /><br />To find a voice.<br /><br /><p align="center"><a title="DSC03128 by lovebirds & seahorses, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/2385414832/"><img alt="DSC03128" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3142/2385414832_e1a5401e06_m.jpg" width="240" height="135" /></a></p>lovebirds&seahorseshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636251132014886984noreply@blogger.com1