Art

A place where rules can be bent and logic defied

where man is winged and birds speak

this is where I write from

and also from my heart

even when it seems meaningless

it is something

it is a piece of me

and I will continue to leave bread crumbs for myself

because for some reason I think I’ll need them

-Saschia

 

….More at Jayne.Press Writing Like A Writer

 

 

Coming Back To Life

The bare trees will begin to bud again

the flowers will crack through the soil

and bloom and amaze us with their colors

We will thaw and glisten under the warm sun

and our thoughts will be on simple things

like picnics with fresh berries and huge sandwiches

or beach days scented of sea salt and sunblock

those days are coming where we

will come to life once again

-Saschia

There’s more poetry at Jayne.press or click here~~~> Makers Of Dreams ~*

Silly Billy

The words that drift out of me are sometimes a shocker. Who’s that man with the big moon eyes? Who’s that girl with the upside down curls? If there is a time we need to think it’s now, but thinking is entirely too much work so we busy ourselves with tasks. Redundant tasks that require little to think about. Tap a pen tap a tap pour the beer and give a smile because they love the smiles. Rest is something we need but too much is no good we need just the right amount. Google-me-drids is that a thing? Who gets just the right amount? I’m either tired from too much or from not nearly enough. Twinkle-me-timbers my toes are cold or I’d be napping right now.

 

I Feel It