Perhaps by the end of the day There will be a story or two to tell. In a each moment, there may seem to be nothing, But when all of the moments are added together, It’s as if they have multiplied and strung together In some eureka of a formula that could hold the Secret […]
Evergreen Droopy Reminder Sadness Majestic Upstanding Pride Branches Limbs Reaching Up Roots Foundation Deep Pinecones Seeds Something New Birds Flitting Landing Flitting Again Essence Joy ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved. 138/1,000
You, standing there and Seeming to hold your breath; You, opening the window To your own longing and discovery. You, waiting with eyes and Arms outstretched in beckoning; You, wistful with hope that Since this is not an obvious ending, Anticipating it as a beginning. You, standing at the mirror Looking for what you know
Poetry has such a hard time Being as poetic as The rest of life. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved. 136/1,000
Am I Not Blessed? Or Blissed? I Am Blessed. Am I Blissed? I Am Not. Or Am I? I Am Blessed Not Blissed? I Am Blessed. I Am Blissed. I Am. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2017 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved. #sixwords
Organized and haphazard lists strewn everywhere in my mind Overlap each other in vital fury. Crescent moons of conflicting anticipations fan out before me: They each vie for my attention And none of them win out. For right now is not when I fulfill to-do Lists. It is a time for repose Coupled with quiet
Shyly, he lifts the flowers out of the pouch And finds that they have been crushed by Their travels and travails. Still, they are his gift to her and so he Fluffs them up the best he can and fans Them out and holds them Lovingly before her. She knows of his boyhood wound: the
Windows color my view Of a world filled with color. To see them clearly, I must Clearly step outside. This erratic, beautiful, Natural world is truly, truly Breath-taking. And with my Breath gone, I take it in Anew. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2017 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
Love. Pain. The way the woman next to me on the subway smells. The way the dead leaf wafts from the tree long after its death. Joy. Frustration. The vibrant sounds of drumming from an exuberant boy. The tiny interruptions to your one, long thought. Spent. Gained. The mild fatigue at the end of a
There is A heart-shaped Rock. We call it Our garden. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2011, 2016 by muz4now, inc. All Rights Reserved.
