Ageless Angel

She was that age, that ageless something

Between rose petal cheeks and silver waves of fascination

Where the foundations moved but the plans never changed

Where her eyes only ever shone brighter, more acutely than before

Piercing like twin stars set in her own personal heaven

A girl with a woman’s knowing, woman with a girl’s innocence

The sort of carefree soul who bought coral rings just to remember other people’s dreams

It was easier for her living through the dreams of others, I think

As she had no time to waste on her own

I’ve forgotten what they called her because her name never really mattered

Not to those who shared her timeline, her space, her place

A name, as with the asking her age, was pointless

For whoever took the time to speak to the wind

When the only thing that mattered was feeling it rustling their hair

No, her name was only sought by those determined to tame her

To mould and conform her; they might as well have bottled an ocean

Elemental, unbridled, let loose on us all

An ageless angel without a prayer of surviving, she couldn’t have cared any less

And when I was with her, neither could I

Yet, now, I wished I’d known it

Guessed or made up something to define her soul

To capture the uncapturable even if but for a day

I suppose I will until my own spark fades

And all those dreams with it of her body pressed to mine

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Folded – They’ve Tried

Folded. Yes, folded. They bend and score and twist and press, but I will not be made as they. Not for a day. No, not a day.

Opened. Yes, opened. All flowers must bloom, petals unfurling to take in the sun. The butterflies will come. Yes, they will come.

Beautiful. Yes, beautiful. This world of colour and texture and light and sound. It’s magical when you look. Folded? No, not I.

50 Word Stories – Misjudged

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50 Word Stories – Misjudged

She sashayed along the sidewalk with that uncommon grace only the sexually comfortable manifested. Judged perfect in form and feature, she effected all those who stared on open-mouthed and panting. In passing a homeless soul all her pockets contained, her true beauty required no such judgement. Neither ever should have.

Author’s Note: I think we are all too quick to judge these days.

Heavenly

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Heavenly

Eloise stood away from the others as detached as if she’d been in Rome. Whilst her so-called friends paraded before the boys like so much fresh meat, Eloise waved them away. Whilst the others coerced and cajoled, fluttered eyes and waggled worse, she looked off into some unknown secret. I likened her to heaven, distant, yet a goal worth waiting for. Wait, I did. Wait, I would. Always.

50 Word Stories – Francesca (A Dream)


Francesca breezed amongst the flowers like a butterfly on the wing, light and carefree. Dressed for the summer even though it was cool, her silk blouse tousled in synchronicity to her long, blonde hair, her smile radiant. I could’ve watched her all day. Looking longingly from my window, I did.

Through Eternity’s Curtains (Part 2)


Only when silence is broken does one realise it ever there, and so it was for us. The voices swept across our hearts, our very souls and left us in tears. Although there were no figures, no entities to speak of, we sensed them all around. They stroked our schooner’s canvas sails, tickled the ship’s wheel as if they found its non-use amusing. We sailed at their wishes, their choosing and never our own.
The river of stars propelled us along, or the kaleidoscopic universe propelled around us, of which I was uncertain? Yet the distinct feeling of motion existed in that strange, new place and for that we were grateful. To have paused even for a second would’ve broken our dreams, and though we knew them false, that we were amongst our betters now, the risk would’ve shattered our souls.
And so the singing of that celestial host carried us away from humanity, away from ourselves and into somewhere more beautiful.

To Be Continued…

Overwhelming

It’s a big, wide world out there to those who feel small. Every tree conceals shadows, every puddle a skin to the world below. We fear and tremble, defer and divide, when what we really ought is wonder. Let us not forget, the flower to the insect is as a sun to us, yet the pull of its pollen is enchanting. Never fear the big wide world, my friends, it can’t help being overwhelming.