PAD Challenge Day 30 (Two-for-Tuesday: Write a "The End" poem, and/or write a beginning poem. Alpha I was seven when I first tasted poetry. A bubbly, Southern girl with pigtails and a smile. From the tip to the back of my strawberry tongue, it became lemonade. Water to my minor soul; A major sweet crystalline to my heart. Stirred me through boiling points to refreshing seconds. Taught me how to roll with the yellows and tarts times of life. Omega Don't tell me to end. That's like telling me to break up with my bestfriends, Paper and Pen. And I don't know when my last poem will be. I may die writing between the stanzas of one just for you to say "Rest in Poem", poet. 💜D'ElegantOne
Welcome Readers, It is not an easy transition into a grown woman from a girl. But I manage. I’m succeeding my womanhood, individuality, and essence to make the best of what I call “my life”. Everything is everything. I am everything but a lot of things are not me. No, I am not the most perfect person in the world but I know who is: God. Sometimes I seem to think that I am too much of a woman. Why? Because I bare and yield all good fruit that humanity should feed from, but not all human beings aim for the fresh, sweet fruit. I have yet to find the match to my peach. I can live without the superficial, and only require what’s deeply real I’m no short talker, but more of a big dreamer. I mean what I say and I say what I mean. I live by it; my words are heavily bonded to my heart….. I’m much of a lover with a substantial heart--- a heart that is teaching me to be kind, patient, and loving all over again----every day. At times, I think I need a new one, because I lo...
PAD Challenge Day 1 (Two-for-Tuesday): Write a "Best of Times" poem, and/or write a “Worst of Times”. Best of times Growing up Saturdays were golden times Teena Marie was square biz And mom’s hotcakes were the hottest to melt Country Crock butter Confirmation of my adolescence transformation Something smaller can make something large and fluffy a delight Simple enhancements without too much alteration I, too, can be butter To a good ole fashioned world A good source of energy Smooth enough to activate the brilliance off the top of my head Rich enough to add more flavor to history Be essential to the vision my ancestors left for me to see That a little drizzle added to the best of both worlds never really could hurt anybody Worst of Times Could it be found at the Door of No Return? A forced, freedom-less ride along one of the 36,000 voyages, To create the greatest Americas’ horror film? Could it be the system it...
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