Love is like the seasons. It comes in swift like the summer; heat so heavy all you can do is bask in the glory of it… then comes the Autumn weather, seems like things that were once so vibrant, suddenly begin to loose their zest. but you hang on to the beauty of the colors that change and see the mystery of the colors all around. Then comes winter. Cold. Lifeless. Barren. There are no flowers blooming, no cones falling from branches above, and all seems lost. Sometimes it lasts longer than you can bare. Then, one day you arise to the medley of sparrows nurturing their young, and peek out of your pane, still clinging to the warmth and safety of your comforter, and you see the first sign of hope… a bulb, albeit small and seems insignificant, not even yet a bud. It’s the first sign of spring. Hope is yet around the corner.
Like an Ocean
Come, don’t go.
Come on and embrace me already.
I’ve been waiting for your arms;
searching for the cuts in your musculature
and longing for the fragrance of your nape
where I may nestle my frigid nasal kisses
there I may breathe and let you take me
take me to where hours are just moments,
and moments are just wisps in the night sky.
Take me to where the warmth of covers hides
everything that lies between us…
Except don’t ever go.
never leave my side.
stay with me always.
It is you that I have searched
and you I have found.
I long for you when, the space
between my bossom and covers
is filled with carbon dioxide and oxygen;
to feel your rough stems reaching around
the curves of my hips,
as vines around overgrown roots
but alas, the frigid atmosphere shall be my companion,
at least for a while more…
Love … ‘Quitted.
Their story is utterly antiquated;
Love so true and pure.
The mutual ignorance unmitigated.
See there is fire in her eyes
Passion is her cloak,
But he can’t see what she hides;
The same fire is alive in his heart,
His eyes arrest the sentiment within,
Which has grown from the start.
Yet still, he wonders if she will have him,
all the while, she the same.
Longing aches from root to stem.
Two unlikely, yet perfect lovers,
she, waiting for it to click;
and he, afraid to uncover …
To unveil the insecurity of being lovesick.
Fear of rejection sets in.
While tranquility fronts
Inside, heads and hearts spin.
Their Souls’ desire knows,
Eager angst itches beneath their skin.
What will come of this love hidden and requited,
will his eyes see her waiting,
or will affections be acquitted?
She wonders if she ruined her chance
her one shot at love in this life,
and she never even got a glance.
and this is what has ruined fb … immature 13 year olds.
Why is it okay when someone says “Hey, you did a great job!” for one to say “Oh, thanks, I tried my best” but it’s offensive when you say “That’s the favor.” Favor does not imply perfection, but simply that, FAVOR. Give honor where honor is due. Try as we may, all of our hard work is nothing with out God’s favor. So, yes, I’m going to give credit to His Favor, not my own goodness when I do well. Thank you.
Notice how the children noticed? They catch on to beauty and true art when adults blissfully ignore it to carry on with mundane life…
Reblog if it’s okay to invade your ask box.