forgottenmeadows

thoughts from my mind to yours


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Paint

And then there was fresh paint

thrown over the old cobweb of memories

sunlight filtered through

the brightly colored spaces

but the color of nostalgia

refused to leave, the red stained heart.

poetry and image copyright neha 2016

poetry and image copyright neha 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In response to daily prompt: Paint


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Wings

Wandering past the windswept meadows …
she felt as though she was floating on a cloud,
the smell of sunshine awoke her senses,
she saw every colour, and heard, every sound
And In the midst of it all, she felt the little tingles
that touched her from head to toe…
She closed her eyes and heard butterfly whispers,
it gave her wings in her dreams and so much more.

free image from pinterest credit goes to original photographer

free image from pinterest credit goes to original photographer