For Len
Your touch ripples me liquid
Swelling tides within
As whispers of miracles
Drop like pins
Summoning angels
Dancing a trance
Water moves through our low spots
Surging sighs
That ebb our flow
Until shores reemerge
Spent with foam
And soft sweet sleep
Evens our tide
Brenda Warren 2017
Visit The Sunday Whirl
Adventures in Poetry and Writing
brenda warren
Reclaiming my inner badass at 50
Just another WordPress.com site
poetry by nicolas ryan brown.
Writing for Wholeness
Waiting on Words
A Feminist Literary Collective (& outlaw poets swearing)
"What a strange bundle of consistent inconsistencies we all are." Mary Ronan
The weather and the light are just different out here...and sometimes you have to find the words for things.
My poetry is my religion.
Sunshine on Razor Wire: perspectives from "inside"
Be inspired...Be creative...Be peace...Be
a weekly flash fiction prompt inspired by google maps
Observations from the loose nut behind the wheel.
spiritual enlightenment and self improvement
In real life.....
undercaws 
You have wisely dumped the words that would have ruined this lovely mood.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such rich emotion you’ve put into this. Lovely.
LikeLiked by 1 person
such a warm and loving poem
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ooh, very rhythmic Brenda. I like how it flows.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful poem, Brenda. Love the title, too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Heavens. You had me at the title. Just so gorgeous.
LikeLike
Thanks, De. 💗
LikeLike
Your beautiful ideas, congealed into words that “ripples me liquid”…. before me, behind me, above and under. As I read our words, I am surrounded by your thoughts,
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely comment. Thank you, Annell! 💗
LikeLike
This is really lovely!
Come Whirl with me!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Keith!
LikeLike
Lucky Len 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lucky me, too! 😍
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLike