Tales of Bee-ing

dswigle(77)

Published in

ThoughtfulDailyPost

Words

579

Reading

3 min

Listen

Play

Oh, who knew
That you would be
Everything I needed
Appearing in my life
Without invitation
Leaving your petals behind

Poetry. Musing. Words. Writing. I can pick up a pen and write, and until that point, there was no point, perhaps no meanting. Put it on paper or type it and it takes on a life of its own. I can speak to you and add tone to my words, coloring them bright and cheerful or calming. Color my world with your words, and write them across the page. Bold and beautiful.

purple clematis a.jpg

I said I'll love you 'til the end of time
Say you'll be mine, Say you'll be mine
Push those words back
To me, don't you see
How will I will know
Today and forever
That you are mine, you are mine
Say you'll be mine

bee in flowera.jpg

Like a Sailor in deep seas of thoughts, you bring much knowledge to the shores of my mind. How can I deny it? I have tried it and failed, so I bring it right back. It saddens me to watch as my summer will be fading into the fall, right before my very eyes. But, there is beauty in the demise of things, we just have to shift our focus to finding it.

It has been a day today. It had bright beginnings and then, the air conditioner died or perhaps is in a coma. The HVAC service person will be out on Monday, I slid it one day to save the double time they charge for the weekend. Monday, Monday, so good to me. In the meantime, it is in the 90s for the next few (still) 32-33C, Without further ado, I'll just bow out, this show is over! Come back tomorrow and we will do it again! Have a great night! ❤️

Happy #Caturday!! How to post for #Caturday

Find your cat
Make it strike a pose - or whatever 🙂
Click it
Post it
Make sure you hashtag #caturday
You are done!!!

All I have are my words, armed in my mind, written in pen, stand by stand. Oh, yes. Still by hand. It has a different feel. Altered not by keys, backspace, and delete, I write, erase, tear it to pieces and start all over again. And again.

It’s my way. I walk out to the deep end of the page and dive right in.

Denise 2.jpg

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost