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My hands are writing the words, but my lips never spoke. My heart wants to tell, the world from my lips but they are taken by the pen. My soul is taken over me by the fairy dust of song, when a song sings at night during the full moon. My heart feels the dust…
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My Fantasyland, tender, passionate, loving and caring for a land is new and my heart is home. Where the child and soul made a day of magic that brings a new dawn of hope and love for all how seek. Magic land of fantasy where the ocean meets the sea, the land is green and…
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On a broken morning, lost in life I’m sprinkled with pixie dust. When I’ve been given the key to a hearts mystery I feel old on a sunbathing day. Here I allow darkness to cover the sun when the rain feels heavy on a young soul. A kiss from soul to soul, a heart lost…
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How does one of my poems come to be? A question that has been asked to many times to ignore. What motiveets me to write a specific kind? For starters, every poems Has his own story, background, time, feeling, emotion, place …… Sometimes I get triggered and I write about thing that happened years ago…
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Beautiful girl with no words, so mysterius now that your gone I wander even more. Out in the world she is on her own, no siple mistake, when she is waring the close of last night adventure. But I wane know, all whats gone wrong and well. Beautiful girl, all the things you didn’t say…
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A land invites, did I never feel loved before. A land invites, to a forever kiss. A land invites, to feel what a mystery keeps secret. In a moment of dark despair I feel loved and cherished. For the land invites to kindness everywhere I see.. In a moment of doubt a stranger’s hand reached…
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When confusion invites to forgive, where do you compromise. How do you give a hand that doesn’t want to be taken. Confusion on who needs forgiveness a lesson only time and experience can tell. Now I’m flying low, no sight on the whole story only cut in a spiral of query of trust. Finding myself…
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The Fox and the Hedgehog, friend out of convenience or left to the mercy of human evolution. As they get fed by the hand and natural instinct becomes a slumbering tune on the background, human intuition loosens strength as we evolve into an industrial image of society. Can we go back to the nature of…
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I forgot reason in your beauty with splintered fragments in strength and vulnerability comes a unknown feeling Ignorant and in good will I’ll praise those feelings, in both heart and mind, and among that thought I’ll handle myself in a manner with drift putting myself on edge. Wondering if this mysterious beauty will tell me…
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A tune sounds like a long forgotten memory. It’s the telling of time, it’s not that I’m afraid. A heartbeat with no rhythm no feeling of loneliness, only a ticking sound. A grime smile sets tone for a friendly reminder of a past smile. A look into the shadow of my own mirror startles my…
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Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens 