Grilled corn on the cob, a smoky delight
Charred and golden, in the warm summer light
Butter drips down, a savory stream
Each bite a burst of midsummer dream
At the BBQ, laughter and cheer
Grilled corn whispers, "Summer's here!"
Simona A. Brinson
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© Simona A. Brinson and mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.
The wind doth whisper secrets soft and low,
Through rustling leaves and in the swaying grass.
Its voice, a breath, a murmur's gentle flow,
Reveals the tales of ages that did pass.
It whispers of the seas and distant lands,
Of mountains high and valleys deep below.
Of ancient trees and shifting desert sands,
And mysteries the stars alone could know.
It carries scents of flowers and of rain,
The songs of birds, the laughter of the breeze.
In quiet moments, free from earthly strain,
The wind's soft whisper puts my mind at ease.
Oh, listen close, and heed the wind's sweet call,
For in its breath, life's secrets softly fall.
Simona A. Brinson
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In midnight's realm where shadows dance and sway,
I found myself ensnared in dark's embrace.
A dream, a nightmare, where the light gave way,
To realms of terror, where I lost my grace.
In twisted alleys of the mind's abyss,
I wandered lost, with fear my constant guide.
Each step I took, a plunge into the abyss,
Where specters lurked and nightmares did reside.
The echoes of my screams, they filled the air,
As monstrous shapes emerged from hidden fears.
In vain, I sought escape from this nightmare,
But terror gripped me, fueled by silent tears.
Yet dawn approached, and with its gentle gleam,
I woke to find it was but just a dream.
Simona A. Brinson
© Simona A. Brinson and mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.
Rainbow whispers
A prism spills its secrets
Colorful confetti in the sky
Stretching fingers
Tickling the clouds
A painter's brushstroke
Gone wild
Sunlight's laughter
Captured in a curve
Dancing with drops of mist
Invisible symphonies
Played on nature's harp
A fleeting masterpiece
Then gone
Simona A. Brinson
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You know it's time to let go when… The sun doesn’t shine When he smiles And the distance between hearts Is 10,000 miles Of unpaved rock and stone When you are together-alone Sitting side-by-side And the chasm That divides Is 8.8 million fathoms Of yawning hollow A gulf, so deep Dark and dank That love is sallow A poisonous rank Simona A. Brinson
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Through my window's silent frame,
I spy a pair, not bound by fame,
Two wrens, with hearts entwined in flight,
Crafting dreams in morning light.
With feathers brushed by dawn's embrace,
They dance upon the patio's grace,
In tender union, side by side,
They gather twigs, their love a guide.
The male, with plumage bold and bright,
Brings gifts of straw, a woven sight,
While she, adorned in softer hue,
Brings moss and dreams, woven true.
Together, they build their humble nest,
A sanctuary, a cozy rest,
With every twig and leaf they bind,
Their love, a shelter, undefined.
And as the days turn into weeks,
Their patience speaks, their love it peaks,
For soon within their leafy dome,
Their fledgling stirs, awaiting home.
Through my window's gentle gaze,
I watch as love's eternal blaze,
Ignites the hearts of wren and mate,
As they tend to life's delicate fate.
With tender care, they feed and sing,
Their lullabies upon the wing,
Until the day their fledgling flies,
Into the vast and boundless skies.
Through my window's quiet view,
I witness love, both old and new,
In the wrens' tale, forever told,
A story of love, pure and bold.
Simona A. Brinson
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In the garden of youth, innocence thrived,
A fragile flower, untouched and alive.
But time's cruel hand, with its relentless cost,
Steals the innocence, once cherished, now lost.
In childhood's embrace, laughter did ring,
Innocence danced on the winds of spring.
Yet, shadows lurked where darkness lay,
And innocence faltered, fading away.
The world's harsh whispers, its bitter sting,
Tainted the innocence with a sorrowful wing.
Through trials endured, through tears that fell,
Innocence shattered, a toll to tell.
But in the heart's depths, a flicker remains,
A memory of purity, despite the pains.
For innocence lost is not wholly gone,
In the soul's echo, it lingers on.
So, let us cherish each moment dear,
Hold onto innocence, hold it near.
For though it fades with the passing of time,
In our hearts, its essence shines.
Simona A. Brinson
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My soul is weak Because there is yet To be found a cure For this darkness That plagues my soul Without respite Morning, noon and night Though my soul is weak I will endure Even if there is no cure Because morning, noon and night I pray for the light To enter my darkened soul And recapture the joy The darkness stole Simona A. Brinson
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I miss the peace I miss the quiet Of solitude Nature beacons me Into her embrace She reminds me Of the winds gentleness And the sound of the leaves As they rustle from his touch And the pitter-patter sound of the rain As it touches all in its path With greetings and refreshment It has been so long I have almost forgotten The ease and harmony of nature I must return soon To the peace To the quiet Of solitude Simona A. Brinson
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© Simona A. Brinson and mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.
My Life In Word 