"Dripping From Sweet Dreams"
A magnificent fireplace screen
Naked in the hearth of brick home,
Though chapped lips cheapen the ribbons
Of every color woven through her dome...
I went shopping with my sister this week. We were in Tesco and spent quite a long time looking at the clothes even though we were supposed to be buying food. The only thing I got...
I love you, you are mine now,
as I am yours, till death parts us
or till our next great fight,
where we don't talk for days
and stumble with grudging souls
in the wilderness
i sketch in the thick air with my words
painting grand towers and epic people riding against
the forever setting sun
grand lives with natural loves...
Indian saree is well known for its handloom weaving, exquisite printings and designs. Satin is the name of a weave, and thus the fabric woven in this weave is also named as satin...
two butterflys chase eachother
across the summer pond
they are small fragile pieces of light and color
but they are woven into the summer song
that plays in her...
I am romantic and have tried to have a marriage where romance was woven into the very fabric of our lives. Dates, poems, cards, letters, kisses, and love. But life intervenes and...
When you make something for someone, you're giving that person your memories and your thoughts. It's like theres a single thread of yourself being woven into your yarn.
Interview with Nancy Garcia – Psychic, Paranormal Experiencer
By Paul Dale Roberts, HPI Esoteric Detective
HPI (Hegelianism Paranormal Intelligence) International
I twist and turn words from which I hear songs from the birds. Any themes I hear shall be woven into a rhythm for those far and near.
You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar...
When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of...
Mulieris PulchraeSince my days as just a pickneyI always had this inkling…this half-grown, notion;Unspoken, though so potentraw emotions that were woveninto what is...