Beginnings and Endings by TheSkandranon, literature
Literature
Beginnings and Endings
What do you picture
When you think of the end?
An end to a relationship?
The conclusion of a story?
But are those really the end?
A relationship that is dropped
Opens a new free life
The conclusion of a story
Is the birth of another
When one thing ends
Another begins
A new beginning
Is part of an end
So are there really such things
As beginnings and endings?
The Forest in my Mind by TheSkandranon, literature
Literature
The Forest in my Mind
As I stroll along the well-worn path of the green forest in my mind, I wonder how a place like this can really exist. Green, leafy ferns are scattered frequently along the soft ground almost covering the brown dirt. In the few places visible, there are many different kinds of plants with numerous shades of purple, blue yellow red and white flowers and a multitude of greens for leaves and stems.
Continuing to walk down the twisting path in my mind, I come to a small stream that crosses the trail. I smile as I come up to it, seeing plants in the crystal clear water. As tiny water bugs swim along, a giggle escapes me; small tadpoles and green f
What do I hear?
Shouts, orders and screams
What do I feel?
Fear, devastation, and sadness
What do I taste?
Ash, dirt, and blood
What do I smell?
Gun smoke, decay, and fire
What do I see?
Men, destruction, death
War
In the warm summer darkness
Just after a red sunset
Two lovers sit on their
Wooden porch swing
Their desire for quiet
And being alone granted
As they sit comfortably there
The moon rises and
They hear a mournful
Coyote bay in the evening
The man puts on the wrist of his sweetheart
A bracelet of diamonds
In the shape of delicate apples
Her favorite fruit
"How do you like it?" he asks
She didn't answer
But she didn't need to
The look of love and appreciation
Is crystal clear on her face
They kiss passionately
Then she leans over
Resting most of her light weight
On his chest
And they stay there for several hours
Field of Dreams?
Ha, that is a laugh
In the Field of Dreams
I ought to have
The fairy man of my dreams
But I am the only one here
And I cannot leave
Until I find that one
For that is the magic of the field
You come in with the dream
And you cannot leave
Without finding it
Despair
That is a word many use
Many think there is no life worse than theirs
That it may be better to die now
And give up the fight for life
When we see someone like that
We need to do all that we can
To help them see the light
And give them the love of Christ
For each life is precious to God
And he does not want
Any to die before their time
So lift up people who are sad
And you just might save a life.
Nothing is coming
Why can't I think?
Since when does this happen?
Usually, when I want to write
Something just comes
Why isn't it now?
I have an urge to write
But I can't think of anything
I don't like this situation
Am I losing my touch?
I hope that isn't it
I don't want that to happen
But wait!
Haven't I just written a poem?
Yes, I have
The words did come
I just didn't recognize it
The poet in me has returned
You are my heart
Without you there is no life
Because there is no beating
No blood flowing
Feeding my brain
And my body with energy
I can always feel your presence
Even if I cannot see you
You are a part of me
And I a part of you
When one takes away one's heart
That one dies
It is the same for me
If you were to disappear
I could not go on living
If we were to part
That will be the day I die
The creature ran across the grassy, green field. The lifting of each perfectly cloven hoof in such a fast and energetic way was so enchanting. The long slender and strong muscles in its well-defined legs moved in such a graceful manner. With each passing stride the speed of the creature increased.
The movements of the well-formed body of this creature are so captivating. The legs move in perfect rhythm with the completely mature muscular form. The absolute whiteness of this creature's body was so intense it greatly surpassed the pureness of virgin snow in the dead of winter.
After that, the silky, individual strands of the mane and tai
Many girls wish for
A knight in Shining Armor
With a gallant white steed.
Huh, a knight indeed.
With all of his victories,
And drinking of brandies.
Most likely with those he has
Many other qualities such as
Self conceit and self preservation.
And with those he will starve the nation.
Give me an honest peasant.
Who is kind and pleasant.
Who will not think of himself,
And not show awards on the shelf.
So all who try to impress me,
Try some modesty.