A blue pen lays on my wooden desk. Its soul is encased in transparent plastic shell. The tube of thick blue ink is a pipeline for my creativity to flow onto the page. Imprinting my words into immortal tales. “What was it like to be human?” Writing; a mighty force indeed.
…
Breath captured, by her.
Love rises in a white cloud.
My heart sings her name.
…
Fingers dance softly,
on lovers skin. Goosebumps.
Must I go to work?
…
Hot sweet swirl. Coffee.
Thick book. Crisp pages. Author long gone.
As I read, he lives.
…
Dusty red stone path.
Blue sky. Cold wind. Summer fades.
Mountain Man walking.
…
Rusty roof. Dying old truck.
Young son. Middle aged dad.
Memories are born.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert
Love the LOVE part!
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