Wash over a setting sun;
One day passes into memory,
Another soon to rise.
The world takes a breath,
And we with it.
I’m happy in the moment,
And strive to appreciate it fully
Before moving on to another.
How many such glimpses of perfection
Will I witness in my time,
I do not know?
But, does it really matter,
As long as I have just one to remember?
Hope you like this. I don’t often put my stories on here, but this was recently featured in the wonderful The Tophat Raven magazine. Check it out and show them some support.
Dappled light cast mysterious shadows over the valley floor. It was more than a dream, more than I deserved. I inhaled deeply of the fresh, salt-tinged air and shielded my eyes from the burning sun. Blinking twice, then refocusing, I realised myself to be gazing upon perfection. Had I stumbled across a new Eden? Here, as I crested this last ridge, had I found that which was thought lost? I was one footstep closer to the end of my pilgrimage, but it felt like I had already taken a giant stride into heaven.
Cumulous clouds dodged playfully overhead in and out of the sun’s rays as though children in a game of hide and seek. I stared in…
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I feel you pulsing under my skin;
I feel you skimming behind my eyes;
I feel you, the advent of darkness;
I feel you, a shroud of inevitability;
I feel you, but you are only pain,
And shall diminish,
Whereas I shall flourish in your absence.
I feel you,
But you will never best me.
I sometimes think that God must want
to make his angels frown,
for not too long ago I found one
He had sent back down.
I caught her briefly by one wing
as she was tumbling past,
and though I tried to keep her safe
I could not keep my grasp.
Many hardships, wore her face
and countless sufferings.
and yet, this mortal, dared to dream
those times when she would sing.
But tattered wings gave way at last
her fate to meet her due.
The while I held that angel close,
my heart brushed hers and flew.
SS Matthews 2002
She tried to live by the rules
Implement her Dr. taught tools
But it was a slippery slope
With only words as her rope
Observers filled with hope
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