Speaking Pages #5

If only I can imagine all by myself I would grow arms like those before I was shelved Before I was washed and pulped, squeezed and dried I would have wrote on another like me With the tip of my burnt branch. Oh, how papery it feels My flat surface so, surreal Yet here I […]

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Beeing 9

Together they drink Displaying such harmony Tiny birds and bees. ©2018∼VearnaGloster

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Speaking Pages #4

So dear writer, Hang your pen over my blank Why have you not scribbled today? Or is it… that the tributaries of your brain froze? Why, Writer’s block I deem…? Do you know that if you stare at me long enough That is all you would do.. Go take yourself a brisk walk Run, jog, […]

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Looks Decieve

I may look as serious as a rainstorm But be entirely joyful in the moment… Or entirely joyful at the moment But serious as the rainstorm. ©2018∼VearnaGloster

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Voices

You may hate my voice today For telling you the truth The compassion that I share with you A gift no one else cares too When my silence cuts through your senses Remember the voice in the wilderness You rejected. How long does it take for one to understand The sacrifices made Are a helping […]

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Not to late for a reading date

Emerged confused at first sound Compelled to defrost a silence bound Built in and out with every letter Read to me my one instructor Open to me worlds unknown Open to me understandings told Fragments of beauty so intriguingly sweet Read to me, sweep me off my feet! Listening I ponder alluring words Trusting I […]

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Roses are Red

This is my first Acrostic Poem from 2015.   Roses are red they say Oh! And I see them every day. Some walking the streets with ‘dreds’ Eagerly tying bandanas on their heads, young men So are children who run and play All having their fun with laughter each day Rich women on walks, young […]

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Speaking Pages #3

During my midnight rest Writers become possessed By fleeing words in mind Tosses digested ones aside To find that hungry leaf of mine, A midnight snack I am forced to eat! ©2018∼VearnaGloster  

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His Writings

Bravery is a volcano, the seed of wavering does ningrow on its crater. From the TREASURED WRITINGS OF KAHLIL GIBRAN.

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Speaking Pages #2

And the poet asked, “should your surface I scratch?” With the sensibility of its tannish hue, the page answered, “of course dear Poet, you may not know, but pens do tickle my fancy.” Poet,Page and Pen, succumbed to Words. ©2018∼VearnaGloster    

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