music at the coffee plantation

…and she sounds like an irish lullaby wrapping my lazy saturday anticipation in secure strums. as i hum along my pen fingers take to their interpretive dance, a literary tribute to another stranger’s moment perfectly tuned to my heart’s vibration.

 

…and cheyenne’s ghost is already here. listening in the shadows and finding inspiration in my awkward eyes. it’s all too goddamn blissful. reason slips through me like the bubbling prayers of this background fountain.

 

…and all i am left with is a feeling of green island hills and sun-kissed arms; of peace shaken nervous and of deep friendship made deeper by my giving up to this stranger’s perfect moment. yes.

 

today is the lullaby to the once overwhelming restlessness i wrestled with.

 

now, a song and the sun, a friend and fellowship; they have opened me up like a perennial only the few stop to admire. 

 

Reviews

[alan peter kelly]

only the few stop to admire...yes...yes...yes...

[Gandré]

OH WELL YOU GROW INTO THIS MASTERY DEAR
THAT S NARRARATIVE TRIUMPH AND STYLISH JOY!

I liked "they have opened me up like a perennial only the few stop to admire. " and


"�and cheyenne's ghost is already here. listening in the shadows and finding inspiration in my awkward eyes"


BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I LOVED ALL OF IT! ALL OF IT.

[Emily B]

DAAAAAMMMNNNN!!!!! I said in my status that there would be words today, but little did I know that today was about reading your words. I felt this. Those vibrations that come with the weather, those ghosts that linger with the fading of the afternoon sun. . . I get this on so many levels.

Awesome work!