The twilight dusk submerges into the protective arms of nightfall...the sky surrounds the city in a blanket of lush comfort...Saturn burns brightly in the distance, twinkling like an elusive memory whilst its neighbouring stars nestled in black velvet cloak folds look on and glimmer in turn like a pedestrian crossing...
The smell of the summer heat drifts into a deep slumber awakening with the sun the next morning to once again watch the world rise and rush off to their frantic daily morning rituals...For thousands of years...through life and man...the rise and fall of empires...the history of the universe...one thing has remained constant...the moon and the stars preordained to watch over the world...could they talk they would have a million tales to tell.
In my childhood the sky was a constant source of fascination...Id hang upside down from swings and look up at the fluffy clouds sailing happily away and make out faces in the folds of white and grey...with every swing Id stretch out my hand believing I could touch the sky and when I just couldnt make it Id think logically to myself that I needed to grow taller...
As a young woman during my exam times in college, Id leave my books beside the fireplace to take a breather and step out into the balcony to be greeted by the cold fresh night air in the midst of winter...Id throw my head back and through the misty skies Id watch the clouds part to reveal the twinkling skies...a hundred incandescent stars that glittered furiously so close to me Id once again feel that familiar urge of reaching out to catch one...and as I searched for the random off-chance of finding a shooting star to wish on for my examination paper the moon looked down on me...she floated perfectly in the centre of the world like a maestro orchestrating a thousand and one nights of whimsical symphonies in her perfect stillness.
According to the centuries age old cycle..every season a butterfly has to break free of her cocoon and spread her wings...here I am once more going through another metamorphosis...happily engaging in a new place to sojourn...thought time would douse my fires of idealism with a healthy dose of cynicism...Didn't you know me better?
I sit here tonight with another tale for the sky to collect...as I write a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth..I wish I could articulate...for another time...because that is an entirely different story...Sweet dreams xx
The smell of the summer heat drifts into a deep slumber awakening with the sun the next morning to once again watch the world rise and rush off to their frantic daily morning rituals...For thousands of years...through life and man...the rise and fall of empires...the history of the universe...one thing has remained constant...the moon and the stars preordained to watch over the world...could they talk they would have a million tales to tell.
In my childhood the sky was a constant source of fascination...Id hang upside down from swings and look up at the fluffy clouds sailing happily away and make out faces in the folds of white and grey...with every swing Id stretch out my hand believing I could touch the sky and when I just couldnt make it Id think logically to myself that I needed to grow taller...
As a young woman during my exam times in college, Id leave my books beside the fireplace to take a breather and step out into the balcony to be greeted by the cold fresh night air in the midst of winter...Id throw my head back and through the misty skies Id watch the clouds part to reveal the twinkling skies...a hundred incandescent stars that glittered furiously so close to me Id once again feel that familiar urge of reaching out to catch one...and as I searched for the random off-chance of finding a shooting star to wish on for my examination paper the moon looked down on me...she floated perfectly in the centre of the world like a maestro orchestrating a thousand and one nights of whimsical symphonies in her perfect stillness.
According to the centuries age old cycle..every season a butterfly has to break free of her cocoon and spread her wings...here I am once more going through another metamorphosis...happily engaging in a new place to sojourn...thought time would douse my fires of idealism with a healthy dose of cynicism...Didn't you know me better?
I sit here tonight with another tale for the sky to collect...as I write a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth..I wish I could articulate...for another time...because that is an entirely different story...Sweet dreams xx
14 comments:
Thats a great piece of writing, very.. serene and vivid.. just like the painting up there..
beautiful writing, thank you for sharing; never looked to the moon as a "she"!
the mark of a good writer (imho) is when i can visualise the scene first time round, with barely any effort..
@Fastidious..Thank you...Im glad you enjoyed it x
@MrFur Im genuinely flattered that I managed to do so :)
WOW. I loved this piece. Very very nostalgic <3
^ Love you Nyxxie xx
wow! Loved your writing! very magical! <3
missed you gorgeous x
^Thank you sssexyface xx I missed you more...where on earth have you been??
and now you're stealing others work and write it as if its yours!
what you wrote up there is "The Martyrdom of Stephen Werner" a novel by Roberta Kalechofsky ..LOOSER!
^Just because youre too sad to put together some coherent sentences doesnt mean that others lack the ability..I can help with a tip...when articulating try to speak from your head not elsewhere...and p.s its loser, loser.
omg anonymous is so lame!...
pc come post i miss u! revisit my blog today... there's a special one
Pink Champagne, I love your writing style and I've learned a tip or 2 from you.
Wish you all the best.
xxx
SeDeSo
from anonymousII to anonymous: what u have posted there will only be taken as a reflection of ur inner problem.
i can't see this corner less than some very nice plogs which is full of elegance and class.
*ignore (him or her) PC ignore*
heeeeeeeey where are yoooou!!!! u've been missed! hope everythings ok! xx
You certainly have some agreeable opinions and views. Your blog provides a fresh look at the subject.
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