I walk a path surrounded by foliage shrubbery lines the endless mileage and encounter do I some things grand and fantastic many questions now come from this querent bold and bombastic
poem: a sunrise of theories – 15/05/22

Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
I walk a path surrounded by foliage shrubbery lines the endless mileage and encounter do I some things grand and fantastic many questions now come from this querent bold and bombastic
breath of the wildintuitive is the meansin which life should be ledupheaval can distend tightened seamsand there is a certain understandingthat change can’t displaceone’s destinybut time, oh, my innocence,will neither aggravate nor alterFate’s true intensity. bulging at the middlea curious heapin the middle there’s an achingsomething wants to be seenit’s the beginnings of eye-watering trutha [...]
Angelic breeze tickles my nose the serenity and beauty of what I know Nothing is more perfect than the moment of now Embracing this fact Intuitively is how...
I can’t be bright, I can’t be calm, I want to write darkness into their arms, the lovers’ capacity are shadowed in depth, their fates, true strengths will be met. In the witching hour their magic’s so bright, Moon sprays light into their night and the raven caws deep rumble, sharp, hard, one would never [...]
Conspiring melodies, tongue-in-cheek parodies, beginning to recall memories, shove them down, place myself at ease. Jilted rhythms, a sonata heaves and breathes, escaping the melancholy, Dear, there seems no end to these.
Healing has a language, I whisper softly, airily it knows, of the simplicity and the duality of wondrous beauty, poetry and prose, the writers and the poets swing each way in kind, whimsical deciduous trees sway our way, whispering in turn, and slightly, just slightly out of time.
speaking a language, in tongues befitting adark dagger-like crown,with a purity hidden deep within auric angelitesurrounding anaemic complexions withtruths damned-well-tolds,a peeking into the gloom of their dastardly hidden rooms,roam, oh how I will roam in lairs of darkness,invitations extending to no luminescent process,luminal passageways to their hearts,navigation with most careful of prowess. © 2022 Lauren [...]
I sit here by this loom — Hand making, hand weaving fineries For our sort beneath the moon. It is quiet here, absent are those memories Which once took up space within my cranium, The mind of mine where thoughts permeated of you and I, Once alive, now we have died.
the magic of the Universe callsspiral patterns curlreminding us of grandma,mother and childthe lush serene natureof breathglows from Gaia’s glorious eyesenlivened spiritsexploring elvesglittering sprightly sprites.I am amazed by the clouded blue before meabove rainbows threaten to fallmagnificent oceans,raging and still, waitingfor the next wet treasure fromNature’s dripping eyesa blessing unto the animalsforest dwellersand rainforest homesdeserts [...]
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