a vagabond in love

Everyone has ocean’s to fly, if they have the heart to do it. Is it reckless? Maybe. But what do dreams know of boundaries?” – Amelia Earhart, aviation pioneer, author, the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. 

a vagabond in love

i am a dreamer
a lonely beachcomber
wearing poetry on my sleeve
longing to accompany the morning sun
through the windows
of your most intimate dreams
aching to explore the lines of your palm
roam the curves of your ripped jeans
and should our paths never meet
i will always be
a vagabond in love
remembering your soul
wandering every cherished memory


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Inspiring Women of WordPress

Feminism isn’t about making women stronger. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength. – G.D. Anderson

Inspiring Women of WordPress

National Domestic Violence Awareness Month falls in October. November 25th is International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. Of course the holidays is a time of giving, showing appreciation, and love. After that comes my favorite day – Valentine’s Day.

I want to do something special for some inspiring women I have met here in WordPress. Sort of spreading and sharing the inspiration.

Starting Monday through the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, I will introduce a different Inspiring Woman of WordPress. You will meet doctors, poets, great motivators, teachers, designers, and mothers, the most sacred (and thankless) of professions.

I will still be posting poetry (and my other nonsense) but a different talented lady will be highlighted with every post. On some weeks I will break my self imposed two posts a week rule.

I hope you join me to celebrate the world’s greatest resource – WOMAN.

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i pray for you

Something for a friend.

I pray for you

bless the morning sun
that warms your soft cheek
the syntax of your happiness
the affectionate words
that I never dared to speak
tonight, I quietly whisper
a hymn that I once knew
before the altar of your words
I kneel and pray for you

the coming of a muse

A tribute to my muse (and muses everywhere).

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the coming of a muse

A woman in red
reveals powerful emotions
performing her tango
depicting a poet’s words
A matador’s blade
carved inspiring verses
of sharp metaphors
possessing the power of a bull
While a thousand church bells
rang in poetic harmony
as red carnations
stood in full bloom
proclaiming his heart aches for you

Cristo Redentor awaits with open arms
So does he

There was no need of red carpets
or trumpets sounding
when the universe conspired
when Pythia foretold
the coming of a muse

my muse

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Grateful for all the warm messages and wishes.  Doing much better now.  Thank you.

Now, let’s get back to poetry………my muse deserves that.

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my muse

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My muse
is a prism
for when she writes
I see the other side of light
As I read her words
I become an unraveling knot
That slowly comes undone
If she knew
how she brightens my darkness 
with her inspiring poetry
my muse would understand 
she is a prism
illuminating a spectrum of love
deep inside of me

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She Writes For Me

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She Writes For Me

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No one knows our secret

Our beautiful connection

From her pen

To my heart

She writes of love

She writes of me

Perhaps she’ll write tonight

so I can read her words

and pretend

she writes for me.

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Image borrowed from Google Images.

DISCLAIMER. Fiction, though I wish it wasn’t.

A Little Rain Must Fall

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A Little Rain Must Fall

 

You can’t appreciate the light
If you never embraced the dark
No matter how bad things get
Happiness may be a step away
You don’t have to be a dead
Philosopher to understand
one simple truth of life
The sun shines bright for everyone
but on every life
A little rain must fall

 

Photo taken from Google Images

Changes to Lonely Author

juggling chimp

Lonely Author wants to thank everyone for putting up with his six week Lovefest. Also, sending special thanks to everyone who encouraged me with my Devil Girl Diaries.

During the past six weeks I have posted twice a day six days a week.

A pace that I can’t continue…..

There are characters banging inside my thick Chimp skull wanting to get out. Not to mention the characters of my completed novels and screenplays wanting their stories to be read/viewed.

There is also the issue of helping the butterflies in my life.

My daughter struggling with college as her mother’s health wanes.

My battered lady friends complaining, “I am always too busy.”

My pouting Allie accusing me of loving my blog more than I love her.

IT IS TOTALLY MY FAULT, for spoiling them.

In a nutshell, I will post less often. Some weeks more than others.

However, I will follow all of you faithfully, leaving my stupid comments, sharing bad jokes, hopefully inspiring, definitely flirting, and leaving an occasional Chimpism.

I must confess, this saddens me, but…..

My butterflies and characters need to be tended to.

From the bottom of my heart and the heart of my bottom, I thank each and every one of you for your support.

If anyone needs to get in touch with me you can do it via my Contact Me page or via twitter @LonelyAuthorNY.

Have a wonderful week.
Keep smiling.
Keep writing.

My Secret Muse

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Image borrowed from Pinterest.

Many of my posts were written after receiving inspiration from the great writers here in Blogville. Fearing I will accidentally leave a name out, I refuse to make a list of writers who inspire me.

True confessions time: There is one person who pierces my heart with every word she writes and they go directly to my soul.

Please, don’t ask. This chimp is a gentleman and he doesn’t kiss and tell. (Not that I ever kissed her). And I would never embarrass anyone, especially someone who I admire.

But this is dedicated to…..

My Secret Muse

Lovely words etched in my aching heart
Resemble sweet poems chiseled in stone
She pens tender verses for the multitudes
Yet my mind swears they’re for me alone

My secret muse writes for everyone
I wish her words were meant for me

Does she know her words echo deep inside
My restless soul trembles as they resonate
Her words stain tattoos on my beating heart
With just one glance of her prose I levitate

My secret muse writes for everyone
I wish her words were meant for me