Tag Archives: writing

A Few Simple Words

Posted by Bonniestormcloud on

I write to you
But the words are never right
I start and stop
Scribble, scratch
And throw away page after page
Of frustration
My heart is full of emotions
My mind is a kaleidoscope of pictures
And I, A POET!
Cannot find the words to express them
I will never stop my quest
To capture the perfect words
That express what I feel in my soul
And see when I close my eyes
Until then
I offer you a few simple words
I love you……

B.J.H.
April 2014
Dedicated to certain Scorpio… I adore you P.J.C.

Dreaming Through November ~ Virgo’s Gaze

Posted by Bonniestormcloud on

Virgo’s Gaze

I am watching the sun set
Below November trees
So brilliant
They all but eclipse
The sun’s fiery decent.
I have been trying to craft
An ending to an
Uncooperative poem.
And even twilight’s show
Fails to inspire me.
With a frustrated sigh
I look up and find myself
Under the intense gaze
Of the Virgo sitting opposite me.
He tilts his head and says;
“You look fetching when
You are lost in thought”.
Maybe it was the timbre
Of his voice
Or the sunset reflected in
His eyes
But magickally
Inspiration found me
And I thanked him with
An unguarded smile,

B.J.H. November 2013
~~ Thank you M.J.G. for that compliment. ~~

Words Within Crystal

Posted by Bonniestormcloud on

I held a crystal ball,
Within this delicate sphere,
Colorful words swirl like mist.
A poem desperate to escape,
Strains against it’s invisible prison
A poem that I lived,
A poem that I dreamed,
The poem that I cannot write

B.J.H.
09-25-2013

Pinball & Scrambled Words

Posted by Bonniestormcloud on

My pinball machine brain
is pinging off invisible obstacles
Scoring points that are impossible
And in the chaos
The words that I NEED to write
Are scrambled
Relocating.
Every time the silver ball pings
On invisible obstacles.
How can a writer write
with pinging in the brain
and scrambled words?

B.J.H.
09-22-2013

Marisol, Chopin, & Bukowski

Posted by Bonniestormcloud on

Chopin came first,
His piano dark, moody
The “Poet” composer,
I slept to his notes.
Bukowski came later,
His words raw and real,
Poetry from the fringe,
Bukowski is inspired
by Alcohol and Chopin,
As am I.

B.J.H.
09-10-2013