Colors of words played in poems

        Colors I see. A warmth that caresses the spirit
and keeps the mind floating. So soothing the
comfort is.

         Words that fall into the right places. The
convenience of how they play off each other. Do you
see it? Such a nice game to place before my eyes.
A glance to ease the mind of thoughts.

          Decorated are the stories displayed here. One
by one my memories are placed upon pages.
Scattered around and at times make no sense. Still
in the end the love of the spirit is all around. The
conscience is clear and hopeful.

          Ah how the day seemed to be a roller coaster
slowly inching up to the top. Down, down the
whooshing pushes the screams of exhilaration from
within. Indeed how much was excitement today?
Much, much. To blend with the motions of the
meanings that circled around. I would be grateful of
trying to comprehend some of those circles. Yet I
cannot. Only hopes in receiving more.

         Still I don't even ask to understand anything by
myself. That is why Jehovah is here, for me to lean
upon him for the understanding. Still playing words
upon words the reels inside my head begin to spin
and replay memories brightly. Thoughts that can be
both breathtaking and shattering in same instance.

        Dreaming wide awake does exist all within the
realm of hope. Dare to take this opportunity and
close your eyes. Only for a few seconds to see what
exactly it is you are hoping for.

        Listen to the melody that is in tune with your
spirit. Listen to the right words echoing in your
conscience. Allow all that music to set you upright.

         Ah a relaxer to conclude this ramble. Soft notes
of twigs intertwined with flowers floating in hot
water. Such a grand escape to all the translations of
those words. A trickling effect of nods and smiles.
So smoothed down over skin. Chills that arise over
spine. Now plenty of warmth engulfing the soul.
Helping to release all that was wound tight. All to
loosen to peaceful rest.

          Interesting to see how much the mind now
will be able to resist the temptation of pen and
paper until the early morning light. Too soon I may
have spoken, perhaps. Knowing of this mind, all that
is rational plays off the irrational to speak inside
of a single poem. Rather to be found sensible or
not matters little when words demands the attention
of parchment.

         So perhaps, my dear friend you take a moment
to absorb the words spoken from this woman.
Would you care to lend a few phrases of creativity to
this one? A play of words, if you will.

         Not a plea. Not a summoning. Just a small
request of sorts. Asking of no promises. A word of
your talent to speak volumes in one display. May
I invite your mind to speak on a moment or two?

        A few words to feed a friend, a sibling. The
establishing of a helping hand, yes?

      Patiently I abide time for the next opportunity
that arises for a conversation with a dear friend.
Rather it be in nature or in dreams.