I’m singing a song and packing my bag, Feeling the wind while smelling the sea, My mind can see what is to be, I hear the roar of that ole plane. And I feel my feet leaving the ground, Oh, oh, oh, oh I’m on my way I don’t look back cause I’m changing my stars, My comet’s
“Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising I came singing into the sun, sword unsheathing. To hope’s end I rode and to heart’s breaking:” Tolkien Fear is a powerful thing. It can make you move mountains, or allow you to hide beneath them, or bury you. I miss the ignorance of youth. I miss when everything was
Photo purchased from Big Stock Photo—An attractive young teen mid-air, falling (or flying) with hands and head first. On a white background. by McIninch c By Juneta Written 021094 I slipped, I stumbled, I fell. I learned my lesson very well. I reach, I jump, I leap. I’m not going to land in the same ole heap. I skip, I hop, I
*Photo purchase from Big Stock Photo—butterfly sitting on grass with dew drops close up on the background spider web by volrab vaclav c By Juneta January 25th, 2002 Whirling, Black cancerous void, Ravenous, Gnawing hunger, Greedy soulless cur, Falling, Falling, Falling, Sinking depths, Lost, Empty hollow pain, Resonates, Involuntary screams, Returned echoes of silence, Mortar wounds of absence, Cavities of isolation,
*Photo purchase from Big Stock Photo—Majestic sunset in the mountains landscape. Overcast sky before storm. Carpathian, Ukraine, Europe. Beauty world. by Leonid Tit By Juneta c 2009 My pillow is the cloud As I dip my feet in the sea of heaven I stand alone on the edge And stare into the forever blue .. .. My soul cries to unite Yet I
Make me feel, but don’t consume me. Hold me close, while allowing me to roam free. Look inside and know me, without trying to change me. Touch me, but don’t critize me. Know my joy, but don’t try to cage it. Watch me fly and soar with me, But don’t clip my wings or try to control my course. Cradle
