The smell of rain kissed leaves today
Left me nostalgic
Sweet smell of musk
Childhood memories
Inhaling deeply
My old home
The innocence of jumping in the leaves
Feeling free
Myself
Head spinning
Dizziness
From a memory I treasure
Gazing into the future
Dreaming
Of cottage houses
Wooden floors
Creaking
Upon a tiptoe
A sound so cherished
As the smell of pine wood
Burning fireplaces
Cracking
Embers float through the air
Soft wind blows
Through a tiny cracked window
Cool and crisp
Winters kiss
Approaching
Macintosh apples on the counter
In a array of red beauty
The faint hint of dust sweeping
Across the bookshelves
One of which holds my poems
In there rarity
Close to my heart they belong
Swiftly
Looking at him
Eyes stare back
With no face
WHO IS HE??
Who is he that I make love too
Under the smoke filled
Obscure
Light
Plaid quilted blanket
Seams just right
Flattering
Warm
Like his body weight upon me
In its heaviness
Passionate
Control
As I lose myself
In this moment
I gaze again
Into the unknown
Eyes looking back
Who are you?
Who is he?
That belongs with me???
Copyright Β© 2020 Nichole Sulpizio
All Rights ReservedΒ Β Β
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet and commented:
Bellissimo, Nikki, Bellissimo!!
xoxox ππππΉπβ¨
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Thanks love π
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Wow! Don’t know how I missed this!! Really loved this, Nikki!! Mmm.
xoxox ππππΉ
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Thanks love π ti amo β₯
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Always an honor and joy to read and share your posts, Sweet Lady!!!
TA&TA SA ππππΉβ¨
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Baci baci β€ππ
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URJW2SN!!!
ππππΉπΉ
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Bella poesia cara bella. Abbraccio e baci π
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Mi piace sentirte ti adoro ti amo tanti baci β€π
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You had me at;
cool and crisp
winter’s kiss
but then, I adored you a long time ago.
Love, hugs, and kisses Angel β€
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Hey sweetheart π π thank you love π adore you too and yes it has been awhile …a beautiful while π hugs kisses and love β€ππ
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mmmmm Angel I wish I was near enough to collect in person β€
Followed by dinner β€ β€ β€
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Awww thanks love π hanging out with you would be fun β€ love ya jack π
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Exquisite and full of homely warmth, with a loving finale…
I found this lovely song this morning
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Thanks love off the top of my head after smelling wet fall leaves after work…took me back in time and also looking forward to a brand new future as it remains to be unseen …one wish is that cabin πβ€
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ππππ
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πβ€ππ
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Look for a red slipper and maybe you can track him down by seeing if it fist someone?jk
Nice evoking write of a hearts inner desire… less the unknown.
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Light as you well know gave up on the hopes and dreams ..falsensess is ugly as truth is beautiful…the unknown is present as I await the prince whom yes the slipper fits as he gently puts upon my tiny foot ..inner desires speak volumes my heart speaking loudly and clear waiting for the face of the eyes gazing back ππ
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Oh- I do know what you mean… let me know if you should find him and can reach out and confirm he is factually real in your fingertips. π
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Eyes are focused …real is definitely not a imagination…words can give false hope it is the one willing to back the genuine heart and touch and yes my fingertips will distinguish the truths from now on π lucky is he that i touch lucky is i who i touch π
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Understood…
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Have learned all too well words are just that actions speak volumes take what you want get what you want..don’t say it …be about it!! When your all words you lose…proof is in action!! All I ever want is real poet …nothing more!
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We all do… I assure you.
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Those whom wait to long miss out! When opportunity knocks take it..stillness and falsneness are the biggest flaws…leaving someone in the dust …
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Understood again. Still waiting for that knock on my door for a change.
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I await the same knock poet…as false advertisements constantly approach me over and over …the price will bring my slipper and the knock your awaiting …the right one is out there its weeding through the weeds to get to the rose πΉ
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Oh- I’m sure they do. Merely vagabonds using love like some toy until they get their claws into you. Yes, I imagine that weeding will take some time. Robust Roses flourish best… in the wild. π
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Agreed! I have already tossed some weeds into the air ripping them like thorns piercing the heart because pain in truth is better then falseness of lie …the wild rose has thorns but of pleasure not pain
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I see… Yet, I remain fearless! π
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Me too light …lol π those thorns pierce just the right way ππ€£
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