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Unravel the day in solferino rivers that flow to Eden’s cor. Unzip my skin, unwrap lacustrine heart beside the Horseshoe, my world’s waters, and let me simply drink of Adam’s ale. Inspired by the morning sky. Not adequately captured by The Droid. . . . → Read More: Lacustrine Heart
I held you captive in my sight While you focused on the light You pulled strings, made magic sleight
I hover over her squint at tilted back and crooked neck. Are you comfortable? She looks up at me. Are you? No. I tug and pull and fluff. How is that– are you comfortable now? She looks up at me. Are you? . . . → Read More: Photoplay From My Back: Comfortable
Nothing left but yellow leaves they fall in earnest now like tears and tumble in the wind. Stripped limps stretch and reach through gray to touch the sun and wait. Hearts ache and break for moments lost to hardened hearts and . . . → Read More: Yellow Leaves
Gray billows of cashmere spun by sacred hands whipped cream piled soft heaven’s comforter.
A simple response to a T.S. Poetry Press call for cashmere poems. Photo taken from . . . → Read More: Cashmere Comforter
SUNRISE by Megan Willome It’s disgraceful All this color Splattered Pink flung Purple creeping Then orange Why orange? The clouds grey as the sun puts on bright clothes Who wastes color like this? Flinging beauty willy-nilly As if everyone would see this sunrise *********************************** Don’t waste His color!
I got an . . . → Read More: Sunday Seasoned Sayings: Sunrise by Megan Willome
How did I end up here wrapped in a circle of poets (I don’t even call myself a poet) where we showed up to taste peaches and wild grapes, to crush the flesh of nectarine and sing fig songs?
How did I end up here . . . → Read More: It Will Not End Up Here
There is change in the breaking when flakes of feeling surface, exposed, blister and bleed on paper, transformed into a poetic patina of words stripped from the heart.
Responding to the challenge Photography and Poetry as Rust through The High Calling and T.S. Poetry Press. If you . . . → Read More: Poetry as Rust Glimpse the grin, green metal mug And faintly whisper, Lord deliver us. From The Praying Mantis by Ogden Nash Lifting a prayer for you today, So this is my prayer: that your love will flourish and that you will not only love much but well. Learn to love appropriately. . . . → Read More: Saturday Snaps: The Praying Mantis
Do you see it? How He tosses His palette on the morning? How he swipes His rainbow hand across new canvas? How He outlines fine and brushes bold? How He mists fresh and rains grace on parched hearts? How He hides surprises within each painting? How . . . → Read More: Do You See It? |
  Be a deep see diver. Deep See Diving     
    
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Copyright © 2012 Sandra Heska King - All Rights Reserved |
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American Christian
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