Tags
becoming, destiny, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, spirit, strength, truth, wandering, woman
give me to blue jeans
jasper and jasmine
tiny white pearls weaved into thread –
storied collection
of people and places
someone I miss
was somebody said
of boys and their business
pretention of men
and swore they could be
what they were in my eyes
angels (and demons)
traded a lifetime
of moments
and secrets
and sighs
breathe of the pages
the sweet smell of paper
rhyme
where there never was rhyme
flight resurrected
from limestone and sparrow
was heaven made whole –
these pieces of time
forgiven myself
for acts of transgression
felt something more
than the warm rise of breath
old silver coins
float in the fountain –
eternity more
than a strange
little death
spare me to words
gifts of forever –
are written to places
of cotton and steel
get me to home
while the crops are still standing
let me down easy
the stories are real
tornadoday 
Bobbie, this is another one of those “WOW!!!!!) things you have written. A lot of sights, scents, and emotions woven through from beginning to end. Absolutely one of your best this year. Loved it!
xo
Paul
Thank you, Paul. I’ll take that as a good sign of things to come. ~ Love, Bobbie
stunning! & such an enjoyable piece.
Thank you, Caroline……. I’m warmed that you liked this. Your kindness is truly appreciated. ~ Love, Bobbie
Not a surprise to know you too jot down your beats on papers to breathe them..
You know I always have this fear that in such a freaking-digital-world we’re moving to a day that we’ll find no more papers:'(
Love & Light
Mira,
you could be closer to the truth than any of us want to realize!
Mr. Paul; I wonder why you’re saying this! as I always read your comments over Bobbie’s pieces, I can say you read her long before I started…
I believe in no coincidents & actually I don’t remember how I came in to her world, but all I know that it’s a place where I find some of my lost beats & lose some others…. maybe you’d say it’s craziness but certainly Bobbie knows best what I’m talking about…
Peaceful Weekend
Oh yes, Mira……..I do know what you mean…….and I am quite certain that many times when I scribble to pieces of paper (stopped by the side of the road), I fail later to recognize my handwriting, and can only assume it is yours……. And you are so right; there are no coincicidences. This now of you and I is exactly as was designed billions of years ago……… I love that! (and you). ~ Always, Bobbie
And i take certain joy in the comments of all of the above…for even i still write down on paper the certain beats that arrive from my heart’s well! And most times I write so fast that when i go back to the poem maybe in the same day or hour i also fail to recognize my own handwriting, but maybe it is because that we are all apart of a eternal creative dna, that is share with masters who appeared before us, who yet whisper ever so softly into our ears…or maybe it is our own true deja-vu moment where the taste of another life , another time, or of another love we one knew eons ago,now fills our hearts with memories of what we once wish we had said to the one in receipt of our adoring affections. Yet it is beautiful and my heart falls to the taste of words that capture my mind, heart and spirit so easily! A wonderful way to start my day…walking into the blissful light of your words! So very well done dear sister! Much love to you Bobbie!
Thank you, Wendell. I am so delighted to be in such loving company, as these others who would dare to scratch in the darkness……..spilling word from worlds unknown. ~ Love you too, Wendell. ~ Always, Bobbie