indiscreet? yes she was indiscreet
oft falling prey to a poet’s words
never falling away from the honesty
of a creature created for the purpose
of eternally loving and being loved
hers was a hidden beauty of soul
a trusting soul, an unfathomable soul
who thought it better to know pain
than to shun intimate connection
or luxuriate in the safety of “alone”
too trusting, too open, too passionate
she never learned the art of self defense
the rules of giving only a little of herself
she never mastered the difficult lesson
of not loving more than she was loved
and so she lined the walls of her heart
with portraits of sweet indiscretions
and never became dispassionate enough
to feel anything but true affection
when she dared to look at them again
and they, when they thought of her,
often amid the chill of long days and nights
would wish again for the fire of one
who could kindle their darkest desires
and inspire their most noble love
Beautiful gathering of visuals and emotions strung together in the finest of poetic thread ... a canvass where each fiber holds a portrait of a true poetic heart. Thank you.
Very lovely poem Belle, makes one wonder about their own indiscretions.
Interesting thoughts on a much loved historical figure.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Oh! to be in one of those portraits of sweet indiscretions.
Your poem have a shy smile under eyes full with sadness and the words huting so much that one will picture a little white dove with a bleeding wound in her chest.
Sherlyn Powell opens up about her love and devotion to her family and the overwhelming repercussion when communication breaks down. Heartbroken and distraught she learns to release her prayer and realize with faith God would reunite her family.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
newfie hugs, Rose
so colorful and romantic at the same time. I really love your
style.
Harold M. Nash
hugs
Fee
Interesting thoughts on a much loved historical figure.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
Your poem have a shy smile under eyes full with sadness and the words huting so much that one will picture a little white dove with a bleeding wound in her chest.
Georg
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.