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When You Speak To Me

Cary Chrysler (skyinthegrass)·October 18, 2016

When You Speak To Me written by: Cary Chrysler (skyinthegrass) @skyinthegrass If singing were a language, if...

English

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Footsteps of Angels

Spillwords·July 24, 2016

Footsteps Of Angels A Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow When the hours of Day are numbered, And...

English Literary Greats Poetry

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I remembered my proud beginnings. I had been in the showroom for three whole days. Brand spanking new. The spotlights bounced off my fire-engine red paint and chrome curves like newly blown glass from Murano. It felt like a summer dream: warm, glamorous, and entirely deserved. By day, people openly admired me. By night, they pressed their noses against the spotless glass, fogging it with desire. I thrived at it. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the salesmen, each morning, scowl and polish away the greasy fingerprints and nose prints left behind by my admirers. ...

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A Stable Place

Angels

When You Speak To Me

Footsteps of Angels

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Museum of Extinct Futures

The Stain

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Thirteen Years of Missing You

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Self-Sentenced Solitude

Marguerite

In Saving Sivvy

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Joy of Riding in the Morning

Spring Haiku