She looked at the flowers as she often did.
The fragrances tossed by the warm breezes of spring.
She picked one and held it close to her chest.
Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and exhaled.
Images flirted with in her mind, captivating her heart and soul with tales of wonder.
The roaring seas, tranquil beaches, vast forests of evergreen.
Summer rains fall, taking the heat from the day.
A storm can bee seen in the distance.
Clouds rolling closer like the wheels of a steam engine.
Flashes of lightening light its pathway.
Cracks of thunder rumble in chaotic fashion.
He appears out of nowhere.
Opening her eyes she gazes out.
Nothing but blue skies with streaks of pure white clouds fill the sky.
The fields so colourful.
Love is the flower, you've got to let it grow she whispers..............
Steve Boddey July 2009
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12 comments:
I told you that you were a romantic.
I like
"Clouds rolling closer like the wheels of a steam engine."
great imagery
Very nicely written. You did a great job with imagery.
Can this compelling prose come from the same source as "the history of the middle finger?"
Well, yes, it appears it can.
beautiful!
Keshi.
Wonderful imagination.
absolutely beautiful, kinda tugs at the ol heartstrings :-)
Shaz xxxx
I could almost "see" the "blue skies with streaks of pure white clouds fill the sky"
Enjoyed reading your verses.
I could almost "see" the "blue skies with streaks of pure white clouds fill the sky"
Enjoyed reading your verses.
strong imagery and a wonderful flow. thanks for sharing.
smiles,
This is sweet! Nice imagery and flow. An enjoyable read!
She seems so longing for something. Beautiful.
A little different from other writes. Very entertaining.
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