Words spoken from another time, no longer work for this day of mine.
What was once, is no longer true, I am not yours, I don't belong to you. I never did, it's true.
No more cornered in a tight little space, I am free to move about. To pace.
If I wish. But, no, not my style. I would rather kiss sunshine, and chase down the clouds.
Eat rainbows for breakfast or other fancy things. Enjoying the freedom to wander about.
Loving my life and all that it's got
Beautiful thoughts drift in and out, never lingering long enough. Does anybody know where they go? So I can call them back where they belong? I choose to see the best of possibilities, because otherwise, what's the point? Why would I not? Why would anyone not want to? How does one become a pessimist? Is it something you choose or does it choose you? I read somewhere that it takes three years for a person to learn how to use their tongue, but, it takes a lifetime to learn when and how to use it. Ironic, isn't it?
These shells were made into flowers. Unique and creative. So not me, but I do admire people that can do things like this. Flowers. Always. To color my world. #alwaysaflower
Catching my breath, I sigh
Still
To this day
The vision in my thoughts
Gives me reason to pause
Whispering your name
Aloud
I reconsider and blow you away. And just like that, this post is over. Come back tomorrow and we'll do it again. And again. Thank you for stopping by and leaving your words.
All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.
It’s my way. I walk out to the deep end of the page and dive right in.
What a Wonderful World
I see trees of green,
red roses too.
I see them bloom,
for me and you.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.
The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying,
"I love you".
I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They'll learn much more,
Than I'll ever know.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.
Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.
Oh yeah.
Louis Armstrong
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How flowery, beautiful, and enchanting your words were @dswigle. The fact that it was poetic hooked me to analyze what your words meant. I loved this kind of poetic blog because it is kind of unique in a way.
Thus, the highlight for me was the shells that were turned into a flower. Such hard work and passion to make it because I know the shells are easily get broken. The craftsman must be pretty professional and had years of experience. It was beautiful.
If you peruse the poetry tag here on Hive, you will find many poetic blogs.
Those shells that were turned into flowers were very unique, yes? A pretty sharp tool to go through them, I am sure.
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loved the shells! I wonder how they came with the idea.
There is so much online about creative art, I am sure it was either there or seeing it in a shop somewhere.
oh, I remember seeing them in pinterest once.
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Those are some really unique and impressive flowers. I had to look at it really closely more than once to finally figure out what it was. Very cool!
Aren't those creative? I could not believe the creativity of some people. Also, I am trying to figure out what they used to slice them. It looks like a laser cut, it is so precise.
I had to look a few times too. :)
Thanks for stopping by!
it's us who choose to be pessimists since we all were born innocent and pure with a clean slate. Yet, being the opposite of it is still a great option 😊
Love those shots. Happy Friday 😁
I certainly see the value of being optimistic. When I go to a mechanic, I want a guy that say he can fix it. Same for a doctor. However, I always like how Rush said he was the mayor of Realville. I suppose it is a question of balance.