Refurbish.
Shine your light
Ever so bright....
Let your spirit move
Through your veins.
Comfort like no other
Pass it on to one another....
Moving within your body
Flowing with so much pow’r.
Heart beating still
Calm no need to take a pill
Breath deeply— — — — — —
And mind can drift off.
#Peaceful
#Calmness
#Regeneratin’
Water My Desire
Stoke the flames of passion...
Water my devoted branches
That reach out
With daily cravings
For that rapture
That your saving...
...I adore
Your soft, sweet center!...
...Your heart of gold
Warms like polenta,
And enkindles
What once slept...
Hearts that beat
Like ours
Have wept
Enclosed by hard,
And wretched hands...
...Now's our time
To take a stand,
And claim
What is our
Due.
...I hear the waves
Crashing on cue
At the shores of
Our becoming...
Stoke my flames
Of writhing passion...
...Just like water
You've been running
Through my picturesque
Landscape...
Over rocks,
Swim through my lakes...
...Water my devoted
Branches...
Feed desires
With longing glances.
©
2017
Bunny Villaire
Swan Song
Soaking in the stillness of the sagar, suspiring the saccharine summer scents, she sees six swans – silver shapes shimmery among the sage shrubs – serenely slip away, their soft splashes sprinkling the sibylline silence; she sees sangria steadily seep into saffron skies, shepherding the shrinking shafts of sunlight; she sees shadows shift then sluggishly subside into the soil; she sees the splendour of sunset shrivel and sparkling specks, scattering starlight, swathe smooth Stygian satin; she sighs, striving to shove back sepia snapshots of seasons stolen away, to surrender to smothering sensation, to succumb to stifling solitude… But alas, stubbornness submits to sorrow, spilling over in salty streams sharply swiped away. As soulful strains sound from the sagar, she stands shyly and shakily, then self-doubt settles and she straightens, saucily and strongly – seize such a sublime stage she should. Spiritedly she sings her solo, smiling as the shrubs shed their shadowy skins and slide into scarlet seats shielded with squabs, as the spruces stop their susurrating, as the swans stretch their slender sinuous scrags, as even the stars succour and shine down as one spotlight.
Savouring the stubs of her song she surveys stoically as the shrubs shuffle back into shadow, as the scarlet seats sag and splinter, as the spruces swish and sway, as the swans swim serenely, as the stars shift back to their serpentine sequence – such stark sincerity.
One last solo, she supplicated and secured; now she is satisfied.
Silver streaks, scarlet spatters, a single silhouette staggers.
On the morrow the sun still strides up sanguinely, sending splendid scintillas of hope; the svelte snowy-white swans still swim swiftly, sharp-eyed for signals of savagery; and the summer is sweet and still.
Is this good writing?
It was as if the scintillating pecks in the twilight sky were rearranging themselves, moving all towards each other, keeping the promise that one day they will be whole.
Hi, I'm currently working on a story and I wanted to use this as my introductory sentence for my story, and I was wondering if it's good... any advice?