-
My desk adorned with dreams,Quills and ink in sunlight gleams.A life unfolded in storied verse,Chasing the elusive poetic universe. Pages turned, manuscripts compiled,Dreams in ink, every thought beguiled.Yet, the publishers’ doors seemed closed,As rejection’s sting, my heart lays exposed. Through valleys of doubt, my pen in hand,I wove my world of this undiscovered land.My failed
-
Preferring the sky’s expansive dome,I turn away from towers of chrome.Escape the rush and corporate strife,I instead embrace the simple life. In a tiny home where echoes sing,No more the chaos or incessant bling.The city’s hum replaced by calm,A humble haven, within nature’s balm. Self-sustainability, my guiding star,Harvests of earth, not the boardroom’s bar.Chickens cluck
-
In the garage where memories reside,A faithful steed, well worn with pride.Through miles and moments, we’ve traveled far,It’s time, my dear, to bid adieu, my sweet old car. Your metal heart with its rhythmic beat,Down winding roads and quiet streets.You carried dreams and laughter ever sweet,A vessel of memories, oh so fleet. Across sunrise drives
-
In the sunburnt land where dreams take flight,The pursuit of happiness in the morning light,A journey through the mist, both near and far,With hope in the heart, like the evening star. In youth’s bold stride, we choose our jeans,Best dressed to chase our dreams,To be rich, to be famous, to stand tall?A quest for happiness
-
On a rugged cliff a lone man stands,Gazing across the seas, whose tempest commands.Dark clouds gather like a brooding host,Nature’s fury summoned with a storm to boast. The wind, such a a maestro, conducts the symphony,Waves rise and fall in chaotic harmony.The thunderous applause, frightening might,Nature’s tempest in an awe-inspiring sight. The storms within are
-
A tale as old as fall,Where two constants endure, heed my call.Death, the silent reaper is ever near,And taxes burden we all must bear. Taxes, a levy on sweat and toil,A duty that wraps the land in coil. Death, the great equalizer in the end,A journey from which none can bend.No wealth can barter, no
-
Shuffling whispers hum,Aces dance in hands of fate,Cards unveil their play.
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
The StoryTeller 