cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: June 2015
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015_06_01_archive.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Sweet flower of bliss,. The perfect child,. In boundless meadow,. Naught to lose,. And naught to gain,. Of sun and rain,. The gardner's hand,. Than dandelion whispers,. A more gentle falling. Upon your ear,. Than a flight of. A quicksilver shimmering,. I bid you hear,. Of this heart,. Ten thousand suns,. Do I love thee. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Run of the mill.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: APPEALING
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015/04/appealing.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Hrough parting clouds,. The moon and stars,. Shift their gaze,. And nodding smiles,. As another man's laughter,. To the ends of time,. His brittle mask of reason,. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Transitional Holistic Therapy - Pana FlowerFly. What I See Out My Window. I have a great love of playing the piano - the piano has been my life-long friend and companion.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: HOLDING PATTERN
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015/05/holding-pattern.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Contains its clouds,. And the ocean holds. Its breathing swell,. As mysterious strangers,. Different it seems,. In each other's dreams,. Is your horizon,. Painted in your style,. Yet these are but. The sounds of silence,. The dance of stillness,. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Transitional Holistic Therapy - Pana FlowerFly. What I See Out My Window. Run of the mill.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: PATHWAY
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015/02/pathway.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Of cold probability,. Only for the seeing,. But sparks of fire,. Of volatile tears,. Of new tomorrows,. Baby steps of desire,. By the tripwire of morality. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Transitional Holistic Therapy - Pana FlowerFly. What I See Out My Window. I have a great love of playing the piano - the piano has been my life-long friend and companion.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: February 2015
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015_02_01_archive.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Confides her secret,. There to glean,. In what is seen. Of cold probability,. Only for the seeing,. But sparks of fire,. Of volatile tears,. Of new tomorrows,. Baby steps of desire,. By the tripwire of morality. Very question has a rainbow hue,. Not pertaining to just this,. Or just that,. But like a spinning top,. It is the whole,. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: SUN-STAR
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2014/12/sun-star.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Right the myriad of stars,. A giver of life,. Our shining sun,. A portal of light,. What we may become,. Across the sky,. Our inner horizon,. Its glorious warmth,. And curing our scorn,. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Transitional Holistic Therapy - Pana FlowerFly. What I See Out My Window. View my complete profile. Run of the mill.
cloudpillows.blogspot.com
CloudPillows: OVERTHROWN
http://cloudpillows.blogspot.com/2015/04/overthrown.html
A poem simply sounds the bell, o. F that which words could never tell. Which would usurp mystery. From its rightful throne,. Other poems - writings . . . Turning in to Autumn. The Way of The Pianist. The Way of The Pianist. Transitional Holistic Therapy - Pana FlowerFly. What I See Out My Window. I have a great love of playing the piano - the piano has been my life-long friend and companion. Sometimes music feels a little too ambiguous a medium through which to express - so I turn to poetry.
