House Of Heart


“House Of Heart”

Windswept Lake

The sun slips below lofty trees.
From her periphery shadows flit
on a pine needle floor,
Fairies a-flight in the dusty haze.
Among the dandelions giant mushrooms grow wild.
The scent of musk and fir permeate the dormant woods.
Windswept lake is hidden amid stands of ancient trees.
Their weathered branches burdened with the weight of
heathery moss that rests on roots
spreading out to the banks of the lilac scented waterway.

Stepping from her clothing she entrusts them to a night owl’s
Glimmering orbs.
Delicate limbs lower into indigo,
platinum circles flow outward caught in the moonlight,
glancing off porcelain skin.
A silver wolf waits at the shore.
Emerging cold and wet she lies beside him.
Silky fur slides through her fingertips,
his velvet tongue licks her dewy skin.
Golden rays and a dusky thrush awaken her,
bird songs echo across the water.
Windswept lake waits silently.
Caught In dreams, she fades to shades of silver.
Her banks glimmer in the sun.
Heartafire
( Holly R. Hunter)

Written: © Maxima
Book by today’s post, we open with the intention of you point out, the beauty of the poetic statement poet Holly Rene Hunter – and in fact, expose, of course not all, secrets, very subtle poetic logic that carries in her heart, this outstanding poet. Liveliness of rhythm, sensitivity, imagination, poetic symbolism – and the beauty of the design and construction of the verse, which Holly R. Hunter fantastic – handled – in beautiful fabric, brilliant carpets, that our knowledge of the world, slow steps and fascinated by magic petals love enters – the House of heart. I stop here for a moment and ask our Dear friend Holly R. Hunter

Stefan Maxima : We know where it originates , this wonderfully poetic weaving, We know the motives , but does not know how to manage to the world , love mixed with the taste and fragrance of the ocean , like a nice , poetic ?
Holly R. Hunter ” I began writing at an early age. My writing is generally based on life experience and from the heart. There is no secret but a desire and fundamental need to express oneself. “ Top yield, width range of emotions and richness poetic images. its complexity and light trail Fairytales and very tangible joy, fluffy unrest – present in verses like these

The Sweetness of Dark

On this dock streams of
sweet, a rivulet.
A taste of salt when my
tongue flicks my lips.
The slap of sea mist my eyes
washing colors down my face.
Memories scurry into caves
where hermit crabs escape..
Sea horses trapped in murky
kelp cry for help choking bubbles
of last breaths.
This creaking dock, freedom floating off
into the sweetness of dark.

Clearly point to the fact that our friend,
the poet whose works certainly have their place in our hearts

Stefan Maxima

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