On love

I always tell myself that I have no more love to give the world.

And suddenly some  thing arrives. Some plant long neglected or some tiny creature. Some broken heart or lost soul.

Endlessly, I always find just a little more love to give. A little more of myself to doll out into the universe.

Once I find that little bit of my heart, I give it willingly. Free of expectation but brimming with hope. 

One should think they would feel empty with so much giving. But in reality, every moment of love given to something else makes your heart that much bigger, and your shoulders that much stronger.

So love without restraint – that pure and innocent and altruistic sort of love which one can give just the same to the tiniest seed, the girl who just needs to see a smile, or the fragile baby bird fallen from its nest.


A note to WordPress

I love this private world I’ve created for myself, here among the words of a million other minds.

Where I can type the song that plays in my heart, be it heavy or feather light with no fear of someone asking me, “are you sure you’re alright?”.

I follow diverse and brilliant writers

And occasionally am followed by them

And so many gifts are blessed upon me; the freedom to say as I feel, the words of others to bury myself in when I have no words of my own, to know someone is listening even if I say I want that not, and the satisfying release of pent up feelings with no where to go -in a healthy sort of fashion. 

Also the ability to appropriately express my love for dashes and run on sentences.
Thank you WordPress

Why bother with a title

I wish at times that there was an island 

for sad ugly girls to disappear to

As their hearts become too heavy to go on.
Then I remember that there is

And I am too much a coward to venture there.

So I’ll while away my days

And find beauty in the smallest of things.

I will fake my smiles

I will be the moon – reflecting the happiness of the world around me.

But always I will long

For that island made for sad and ugly girls.

Summer ebbs

This cool and dewy morning

Screams fall into my bones

The air so light and crisp

With clouds so swollen low

And summer is forgotten 

Though she has weeks yet till she shows

Her auburn hair and golden eyes

Autumn in her full design

The smell of clover wafting

Across sunlit open plains

Replaced by musky grasses

And the sloughs they hide from sight

Sweet summer ebbs discretely

Into her sister autumn