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Soul Drops
Actions du livre
Commencer à lireLongueur: 97 pages16 minutes
- Éditeur:
- Fae Corps Publishing
- Sortie:
- Nov 10, 2018
- ISBN:
- 9781386286226
- Format:
- Livre
Description
A drop of the poetic soul of a half mad Poet. Various poems for your reading pleasure.
Informations sur le livre
Soul Drops
Longueur: 97 pages16 minutes
Description
A drop of the poetic soul of a half mad Poet. Various poems for your reading pleasure.
- Éditeur:
- Fae Corps Publishing
- Sortie:
- Nov 10, 2018
- ISBN:
- 9781386286226
- Format:
- Livre
À propos de l'auteur
Patricia Harris is a dreamer, crafter, gamer and digital artist who loves creativity in life. A half mad poet, her writing is found all over social media and various other websites, including coffee house writers. She is a devoted mom who can be found doing a variety of art when she isn’t penning poetry and writing words. She is half of the indie publishing company Fae Corps publishing. Her collection of writings include a memoir, children's books, and poetry. For more from Patricia, check out www.Facebook.com/mouseypoet or pattimouse.wordpress.com
En rapport avec Soul Drops
Aperçu du livre
Soul Drops - Patricia Harris
Volumes
Feeding on the Moment
The need so grand,
Just to touch your hand,
Just to taste the sensation
Of pressure from your lips.
To forget ever so briefly
The existence of the world
As we feed each other
The subtle sensations
Denied by separation.
Gorge upon my soul,
As I feast upon yours.
The rest is not a concern
Even to postpone
As the heart feeds on this
Moment for eternity.
*note Previously published in the ezine.... http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue782/blurb.html
Poisonous
I started with the mushrooms,
Ground finely don’t you see.
Then I gathered leaves
From the poisonous tree.
I picked it clean,
With no thought at all,
To what that would mean.
I mixed them all up
Adding belladonna seeds,
With just enough water
To make it liquid to suit the needs.
So, in my pocket is the vial,
Hand mixed by me,
Made up of mushrooms and
The poisonous tree.
What will I do?
With the vial you ask,
I will hold it safe
Until the goodbye last.
The weight hangs
Pulling me back...
To my chair,
To my bed,
To stare into the screens again.
Though I have things
That I need to do,
My brain again slides
Into cyberspace,
Lost in the fog
That seems to be
All that
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