Visions Of Years
As I linger in the early hours of morning waiting on moments of inspirations to whisper into my life their transcendent musings of life’s revelations, I close the eyes of my mind to open the visions of years ago scenes, where the ideas of such things, danced in the meadows of long grasses among the breezes of unwalked fields, untouched by hands will, in times unrecorded by the illusions of indefinite existences of event. My skin ready to feel the touch of the sun’s warmth upon my face where the years have gathered beneath smiles, frowns and tears, of joyful laughings, unreleased sorrows, and childish fears. Breathing deeply in wanted scents of flowering fragrances, swept round about my senses, I release my anguished mind to the possibilities of luxurious interpretations of much wanted participation in living where all the quintessential ethos of my femaleness is intoxicated with the visions of my longings for being beyond the predetermined minded visions of this woman that I...