Ah, the autumn breeze, it reminds me of the fair, the rides, the wonderful food smells, and the livestock, then the museum like exhibits, and never will I forget the games. “Everyone a winner!”, the carnival workers would shout. The carnival always beckoned me, as if it was my destiny. Short-lived was the fascination of the huge generators on trucks, with the monstrous cables I could barely step over. I would step over them with a slight apprehension, wondering what power they must possess to make all these carousels go round and round.
Quickly my attention was brought to the flashing lights, the newness of the loud dance type music being played, with “Faster! Faster!” being shouted over large PA speakers. The excitement tingled my insides as I would double check my tickets I was clenching. Then strapped in, round and round I would go, the world spinning around me, hearing the somewhat calming screams of others enjoying the ride. Too soon the ride was over, myself a tad dizzy, would trample through the noisy crowd to the next ride. Beginning to hunger for the delicious state fair corn dog, I would recount my tickets to be sure I had enough for the glass house in which I couldn't wait to get lost. Then sitting down to eat my cotton candy, I smiled, knowing there a piece of heaven on earth. Rybird
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So I wrote a poem for all girls!. : What lurks in the shadows of the flowers in the dark corners from the dancing candlelight? Hearts desires peeking from behind soft petals anxious for the silence of lovers, they wait patiently to dance while two romancers get lost in their reflections of their eyes. These tiny desires dance and forget all about light and forget about darkness until they burst like careless whispers in the candle fire. The lovers blink and think and realize they are together freely with heart’s desires and the shadows dance to their romance. Rybird October 2017 #poetry #flowers #romance ![]() Bonus Poem: To each other. The blood of a flower, like no other the sun warms the heart, as a lover making it's cheeks pink, with a blush a rose is a rose are roses to each other a flower is a rose to a flower to each other they all come from the earth, their mother....Rybird |
AuthorBlog of Rybird with stories, behind the scenes and features of music, art, photography, and spirituality. Creativity and Inspiration along with some personal experiences. Archives
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