(Source: terrifiedstars, via ilovereadingandwriting)
(Source: terrifiedstars, via ilovereadingandwriting)
The preacher’s son stands
in the shadow of the steeple, watching
starry lights
roll into wind,
cascade down violet hills.
He envies the old bare oak for
its tall limbs
that prod the sky,
the swirling stardust
which paints the dusk.
The pulsating,
throbbing moon
spins at a distance
in the periwinkle blue,
a February’s night.
a little row
of tiny prints
left by my darling
in the ice-frosted grassaway from city
sounds and warmth
snow has settled in deep
covering all in sparkling embraceto be home
to hide from cold
roasting and stirring
as is tradition, together
My arms are fragile branches
Hostage to the wind, my memories
Encased in amber, bark covering my skin.
My arms are always reaching, yet I am subdued,
This quiet hill has become my haven
On which my roots are strewn.If winter fades to bitter ice, grey skies, and frozen lands-
If my limbs become brittle and blue
That once supported children’s feet and hands-
What I’ll do I’m not yet sure, or
Whether to care or not.And if spring comes by and by
I can only hope my bones won’t rot.
(Source: ramenneedles)

I’d recommend you check out sparrownestscript on Etsy. She does some very cool calligraphy designs on cards, bookmarks, and notebooks. I received the “I solemnly swear…” Moleskine for my birthday and I absolutely adore it. It looks great, it’s quality script, and it’s a Moleskine. What more could you ask for? Definitely check her out.
(Source: annieneugebauer)
I mold my words like pottery,
Carefully crafting them into something of value-
The clay from the wheel bleeding onto my shirt
As the machine whirs to life.My words stain my soul with brown as deep as the earth, and
If my calm hands slip or falter- its beauty is ruined.
I’m a poet with only…
(Source: just-another-enchanted-soul)