Month: March 2025

Featured

The Canvas!

Canvas of the heart, paints of love its most beautiful portrait. Beyond what the eyes see, but what the soul reveals, of what the heart conceals. Love, its most endearing expression, a display of love’s vibrant texture, what yields its colorful warmth. Its hue, brushed gently up against the fabric of life, what’s pressed deeply within the canvas of the soul. Love left portrayed, the heart left elated. Love’s artistic portrait, heart its imagery, soul its creativity; its work of art. Every heart, oiled with the painted breadth of love’s essence. What the soul drips, canvas deeply stained with its abstract artistry. Love’s deep crimson characteristics, profound image of its breathtaking beauty. Definition defined, nuances refined. Love’s canvas, never a blank slate, just the state; heart and soul. Woven tapestry, tapered having the nature to be, a depiction of love’s ornate expression!

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Encompassing!

Breadth, can’t be held, but like that of love, be fundamentally grasped, completely embraced. Titanium, like that of love’s quintessential depth, strength encompasses profoundly; its width not withstanding. Sound, intuitively does surround, amplified resounds; like true love, its veracity no bounds. Circumstance, acts circumspect, never dampened due time’s relevance. Compass of action, never circumscribes to meaningless words or deeds. Love, withholding nothing, encapsulation needs of its encompassing characteristics. Sometimes, rain does falls, hedging your heart with its reign, its drench yet unknown. But, when love’s reign befalls, will encompasse your soul, pour into the heart whole. With the hedge of preservation, will contain watered tears. Giving hearts courage to persevere, within waterfall’s reign. Immersed, heart and soul thee wed, to have and to hold. Ringed, what its tether brings, what all encompassed love beholds. Enveloped, lettered instance revealing, enclosed essence inked. What comprise, what gives rise, what edifies wise. What every thoughts know, what every word convey; the encompassed breath of one’s heart, of one’s soul!

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Age of Artificial.

Love lives within an age, where the nucleus of its purpose, seems of an artificial understanding. Intelligent love, not of superficial pretext, but hearts displaying its sincere context, its breadth being of love’s intuitive nexus. Its gentle essence of natural persuasion, its nature represented a genuine soul. Synthetic words, though bold may seem a simulated posture. If not a heart stimulated, embolden by its mission; authentic. An artificial smile, could never paint a realistic portrayal, the depth within a heart and soul. Robotic concepts, could never personify love’s deep precepts. Motionless thoughts, never conceptually emotionless of sway. A heart searched, the love tested, the soul proven. Though deeply flawed, worth never in forfeit of its relevance. Even, being of ten thousand imperfections, upgraded intelligence, not easily degraded of love’s profound relevancy. Why, would tears pretend, the air is just a little misty? Artificial tears, could never move a heart to feel, what only true intentions can acutely achieve. Perceptively love, wholeheartedly discerns, inquisitively affirms, intelligently by design; thoughtfully reaffirms. Fabricated affirmation, meaningless faux love, no reciprocated affection. Love, seemingly becoming abstract, in an age of artificial, intelligence!

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Love’s Gaze!

Through a telescopic lens, love gazes with intention, sees beyond the natural. A heart captivated, by the breadth of love’s galactic hue. Like the stars, love’s radiant glow glistens, a reflection of the heart’s quintessence. Stargazing, hearts souls raptured by a love so amazing, the heart left dazing. Hearts, fixed on love’s aura, soul’s wick awaiting to become, beautiful enlightenment of love’s breathtaking light, of heights. Love’s gaze, ignites the spark of its sublime. Might of its compassion, soul gazing with wide-eyed curiosity, its passion observantly in awe, heart wide open. Knowing, the beauty of love’s cosmos, envisioned within its breathless wonder. Conceived within the nature of its muse, contemplated in the depth of its immersive escape. Heart and soul swept by the gravity, within love’s heartfelt gaze!

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Spring into Action!

Spring into action, don’t let love be just a meaningless reaction, but a beautiful attraction. Mathematics 101, hearts divided, love therefore, but a fraction. Something missing, if nothing added. Spring into action, may deep within your being, reside a fertile soul; for planting, harvesting. Ready the soil of thy heart, deeply be that of love’s inherent garden. Cultivate the aura of love’s serenity, dripping the fragrance of its nature, the nuances of its peace. What never allows, cumbersome weeds to stifle its colorful allure. In every season, love never needs a reason to flourish beautifully, bloom effortlessly; liken to an endearing flower. Showers of blessings, a heart basking within the precipitation of love’s forever reign. Allowing deep rooted love to grow, thrive, springing up to become that of a soul, with rose petals laid bare. March to the front of the line, real love will never decline. March to the beat of your own heartbeat, painted with the essence of love’s crimson hue. Throughout its garden, love leaps, love frolics, speaks from the heart with two lips. Planted tulips, breadth of love’s dew resting gently on the heart, likened to that of a wet kiss upon the soul, sweet fragrance of love lingering. Consider the lilies, how like love, it gives naturally of itself, what stems from its ornate beauty. Every day, nurture love until heart and soul spring into action. Never, allowing love’s garden to become neglected, ever parched, wither into nothingness void!

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My Heart’s Rights, Writes!

Word(s) play, speak of relative pun, plain but yet of fun, indicative but of a different perspective. Writes have meaning, rights of words verbatim, heartfelt prose tethered in tandem. Two or three gathered in the midst, exploits of a heart’s love story. My writes sow, of love rightly so, heartstrings and bow. In my youth, thoughts my soul did restrain, but in love’s reign, unshackled my heart does write. Rights given by love have no blight, heart to pen words of delight, unbound love, writes without plight. A heart with insight, writes freely not bound by rights, freedom corresponds with the intent to give sight. Whenever words descend, with no hesitation they arrest my heart, read me my rights. Inked soliloquy writes, my soul’s innermost, my heart conditioned with perceptive rights. Pen, oh penned, thy ink detains the rights of my soul, with no restraint I am free. In the court of opinions, of love my heart writes. In life, actions judge the rights of words, galvanized thoughts written bled of heart and soul. Love, oh love, what right have you to ask of my heart, in perpetuity writes that have bared my soul? But nevertheless, not my will, but love’s ingenuity ink does spill. My heart, released on its own recognizance, bear witness to the breadth of love’s cognitive writes!

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Motivation’s Sway; its Inherent Way!

The rhythm of blues, could never sway love’s crimson ways. If violet hues are of blue, then rose petals would say of a heart true, I love you. If a closed off heart perceives, love is blind, then how of mine? A heart wide open to know, if love can’t truly see, why giddily are so many, willing to then blindly fall… into love? Must be its sway. If, tainted glass is only of a reduction in perspective, then, why are many hearts amazed? How a reflective perception could be a shift in one’s mood, to become a painted expression of love’s subtle nuances. Must be of its way. If light shining, will always overwhelm darkness, leaving the darkness no way to overcome it? Then therefore, every heart’s innermost glow, likened to an incandescent lighthouse. Love’s solace of hope, beaming in the most darkened of moments. Must be to sway. They say, silent rivers run deep, but, this my heart has come to concede. Deep places won’t reveal itself, if one’s soul couldn’t fathom. Depth is a place of being, within a state of enlightenment. Swayed, knowing must be love the way!

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Just!

Dreamer, every heart is an innate dreamer. Some fairy tales, dream of falling in love, while daydreams, gaze within the possibility of being in love. But, for me and my heart, it doesn’t dream of being; faithful love is about conceding, to staying. Everyday, Just, fall in love again. You see, every morning, my dreams do come true. When, my heart kisses, upon the love of my sleeping beauty, to let it awaken my soul. And all day long, my heart races to the ball, slow dance with the love of my Cinderella. DJ, play another slow jam, this time, make it sweet. To Just, with one glance, heart concurs with soul; Just, let it happen, fall breathlessly. For those moments, when the day plays with the mind, to capture the imagination, it encounters much resistance. The elasticity in my heart not swayed, to Just, let thoughts have its way, with my soul. Mind over what matters, a heart in tatters, enamored with love that only flatters. Real love, knows how to hold your gaze just right, how to grip your heart tight. Your every breath, not putting up a fight; Just, waiting to exhale. The soul eclipsed by radiant light, the heart saying it Just might, fall again. Magic, that must be its charm, how love does what it does; does the soul no harm, when it takes you by the heart. And even though, again and again it makes you fall; do it again, give love its due. My heart, will never justify my soul; it vowed to forever be, love’s useful muse. But, before my love became, Just; my heart first had to concede, it Must, fall… again!

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Knock on Would!

When, love proves to your soul its true meaning, no heart, should ever instinctively knock Would. When, its enlightened breadth deepens your understanding, no knock off version of love, Would, ever be enough to sway a heart’s fundamental beliefs. So many hearts, carve their love in hopes and dreams, not realizing, the Would, becomes a symbolism, the act not becoming a euphemism. The commitment needs to be, to the love growing deeper, forever etched upon the depth of your soul? What will flourish profoundly, stands the test of time, proving, deep love will transcend time, and space. A heart, colliding with Would, never becomes love losing balance, but only spilling the essence of its beauty. Would, in of itself hollow, when its core intent has no inherent content, giving it context. Just, like how love resonates, Would, needs to echo verbatim, with its resounding tapestry. Rat-a-tat, why, must the dog chase the cat? A heart, never confident of its deepest breath, until the posture of its soul, exhales love’s heartfelt truth. That Would, by itself could never build love’s foundational bridge, if never tethered to something substantial. One’s inclination, just a feeling if not acted upon, the Would, having the potential, but the heart not willing to act. An expression of hope, Would, never accomplish anything, without faith empowering its purpose. A heart’s resilience, could never have the strength to knock down barriers, without it having the will that Would, make a tangible impression. Love, unapologetically pure, intentionally rooted, never a heart needing to, knock on Would!

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Lost a Breath! 

The early years!

My heart, lost a breath, lost it within the depth of time, on it, sun doesn’t shine. I lost a breath, swept away by streams of love’s cascading breadth, deserting my heart within the sands of time. The remaining breaths of my soul, exhales now with the end in mind; how a moment in time, my breath I held. Oh, how I nurtured this breath, dedicated my soul to its purpose, kept its worth so close to my heart. But yet, now resting with the power to be, embraced within the heart of thee. So, my soul holds on to hopes, to dreams. My soul lost a breath, on the wings of love, it’s up and above the clouds, the only way to get there, fly on the wings of love. When, my heart takes its last breath, my soul won’t be at a loss, embracing my lost breath in love’s serenity. For, every lost breath is found, in peace like a river, finding its delight within love’s angelic hue. Every day, my soul senses something in the air, love breathing within the hollowness of my heart. Remnants of my beloved, hovers in the stillness, echoing the beauty of love’s quintessence. Along life’s journey, a heart full, inevitably loses a breath, for souls gasp when kindred. Heard it said, one can lose its mind, but, what does a mind have to do with it? When every breath you take, every step you make, love prevails. Baby steps, and with every deep breath, solace will confidently find; my cherished breath, nestled within love’s sublime. My heart, lost a breath, ascended to a celestial plane, but yet in me, its presence abides. Que sera, sera, what will be, will surely be!

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