Deserted particles fill the air scape, opportune,
bringing dawn into the acceptable,
best friends until morning twins are separated into the Universe,
conjuncture plays as if both souls had been lost, then found.
A receptacle of admiration,
perhaps an empty vessel,
critical care is the violence that occupies the world,
orgy of celestial grenades that explode into human occupation.
Despite the best attempts at coverage,
the vestibule of light projects into a prism,
water gleams into the eyes of mountains,
where celibacy roams virtuous in the sands cape below.
The occupied sensations, they tingle as such,
single dwellings dive into a…
Petunia coils around Jasper stone,
higher reaching than the Indonesian mounts,
celebrating innocence in a childish fashion,
a good memory as begotten ivy reaches the top of chained fences.
Collected anemones brighten the evening sand,
raving sunsets burn into the flesh a rosy colour,
sending beloved angels into a rush of sea water, amidst fishes,
glowing beds turn into love under a starry night,
one that is filled with music of violins,
harps wailing, beseech the tendency to pursue and just be.
Happy tendrils from bottoms of bedrock,
sunlit bleached bodies are the norm in sustaining systems, holistic,
nature creates elderberry bushes,
Loons dancing on silver waters,
opulence found on glittering shores,
shade provides the palm tree, sand pipers grieve,
love is attainable through calming presence; gentle breeze.
Anna Rozwadowska 2021
A result of the poetry prompt “Shade” by Fọlábòmí Àmọ̀ó :
Hearing me weep inside the deepest azure,
canopied forests disappear in the despair of my tears,
continuing a land that slides forth with projection,
landscapes changing hues in autumn colors,
the cumulative effects of standardized prophets,
how I miss the desert cracks when they sound my name.
Giant sequoias impress indolence, as shadows fill the beyond,
pints of gregarious expressions fill the empty void,
romantic revolutionaries in the contemporary population,
filling deserted chambers with dust,
a slight sparkle from underneath.
Rotary incisions are but naught,
satisfaction begins at understanding life’s riches,
powers that unleash potential
in selective gratitude in the midst of commonality…
Needy remain the threads that bind us together,
silk overruns the threat of dilution,
comforting the nurturing babe, gregarious is the sought,
filling each tapestry with the glaze of an indigo sky,
perhaps the lesser diffusion,
yourself bringing sex to the other,
lonely is the animal that begins to take.
Nothing bad can happen, the carousel collides into plasticized horses,
ravishing red becomes the maven who steals the utmost heart.
Yellow petunias grow as deciduous forests do,
whilst the future of man kind sits in the comforting fog of illusion.
Perhaps it is truly one who sees lovers paradise in…
Gone the seaward spaces, carved from lumber and traced in the sea,
populous derived from carnations, the torment of yellow sunsets,
under the thunderous inclination, perhaps, a gentle story may recover,
little by little we endure the facets of time, proclivity,
common place is rendered obsolete, understanding chains of recovery.
Blocking the intersection to goodness and light, lovers do not desert each other,
tempted by the siren’s call, it is often misunderstood, this concept of buoyancy, tempered by waters as ancient as redwood trees.
Colorful forts bring about safety; a safety you long took for granted,
where tree canopies decide the…
Golden winds envelop the predilection for understanding,
static agenda of armchair cynics, wineries of
the allotted prodigy play a violin as smooth as coco silk,
woven tapestry inside the music that plays inside.
The brush stroke of an artist in passion, the canvas pertains to the slave,
the paradise awaiting scholarly intrepidation,
concise flower beds feed on mulch, while the sun warms jubilation,
it is a stroke of luck that they find internal balance within,
constant bridges being built under the near water, clay ajar,
beautiful sponges wash up out of the tides.
The honesty of a welcome man becomes…
Top Writer in Poetry. I am a writer, photographer, psychic, medium, and spiritual guide.I have an M.A. in Environmental Sociology.