I go through stages with my words, my artworks, my creations. Lighthearted, jovial, childish antics. Then I’ll swing to the right, suddenly serious and in love, purging myself of the almost-sickeningly sweet tastes I have devoured when fed adoration from his gifting hand above. I swoon, how I swoon, when together we are in my words.
Where to next? Maybe back to the storytelling, the longer expressions of my mind and imagination, the telling of tales, freshly beginning? Or should I remain where I also now find myself comfortable, no more humorous creature poems to be spoken of, instead remaining in the flight of heady love, my expression of how we once were and how we now always are? Should I speak for you, address my intentions, of encouraging you, inspiring you, to accept who you are, self-acceptance internally wrought, prompted, but also heaven-sent?
Or shall I not plan, but write as my heart desires? I have many tales to share, many worlds to recollect and connect, my arms can only reach out for so many, but I hope to reach you all, with my heart of hearts I hope to reach you, to speak to you all. I aim to express my heartfelt emotions, my best, to produce what I can with no judgemental pointing or disapproving voices. But because I know there is always the presence of that type, I shall smile in my whimsy, and dance the night away, critical beings I shall not acknowledge, instead I shall dream where I now comfortably lay.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.