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I had a dream I walked through a field.
I was hot and cold and sad and bold.
The field was green the sky was blue,
and then I saw you.
the flowers blowing with your hair.
A smile upon our faces.
Felt your warm embraces.
Trapped between to worlds.
Sad and happy.
TravelI want to travel,
to Kalamazoo in a canoe,
or Portugal with a gul. I keep in a cage.
Or maybe go to Argentina where the streets are nice and cleaner.
Or maybe go to Kazackstan and take the train to Sudan.
Walk all the way to China.
Or swim all the way to Spain.
And paint the streets of Paris while standing in the rain.
So many things I'd like to do and see.
I hope that you will come with me.
My HeartSeparated by distance
Longing to be with you.
In my thoughts when I sleep
And when I awake I find you there
You find your way into my mind.
To everything else I am blind.
No matter what I think of you.
Remembering you smile, your face.
No one will ever have another place in my heart.
NantucketI had a friend from Nantucket,
who spent all day in a bucket.
She went down the river
with her friend the fiddler
and diddle dee diddled all long.
Then one day the river went fast.
To fast, she got there at last.
A giant big waterfall.
She went over the falls,
she saw all and all,
her life flash before her eyes.
But then she was flying, she was death defying,
and singing while fiddle dee dee.
WifeI see you there.
Dancing eyes and dancing hair.
Your soul is deep. Your rules are steep,
and still I put up with you.
Your beauty sparkles in the day.
I hope you never go away.
Love IsLove is true,
Love is blind,
Loving someone who is divine.
and her heart.
Could make a fellow fall apart.
Bask the glory of her hair.
So radiant and fair.
Her lips put rubies shine to shame.
Her eyes like diamonds.
This woman, I hope,
will never change.
You and MeI want someone who can hold me tight,
And help me go to sleep at night.
I want someone to keep me warm,
And hold me through the summer storm.
A friendly face, a happy place for us to go.
Down by the lake we won't quake even when it's cold.
Because we're together now and forever
You and Me together.
Living With JoyChapter 1
It all started about 6 months ago when I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me.
Imagine me throwing pillows and coffee cups at him while I cry.
Then I lost my job for printing a story my editor didn't like.
Imagine him throwing pens and books at me while he shouts.
My whole life had fallen apart. But now as I sit at my computer typing. I consider it may be a good thing. I could say whatever I want. I didn't have to write articles anymore. I could write books and epic adventures. A far off land where people ride ponies, and for some reason stick swords in stones.
And so here I sit. 2 A.M. with a cold cup of tea and an empty carton of ice cream beside me. Tears streaming down my face and eyes glazed over. That I finall
The most honest poem I've ever writtenI'm over competing,
Over this mistreating,
They don't even care,
They are never even here.
I thought it was going to be okay,
I thought it'd all go away,
But my life is getting worse,
Everytime I breathe it hurts.
I want to end it all,
But i'm afraid of pain,
I know i can't do anything
To stop it happening again.
Please just leave me alone,
Let me curl up, Let me go home.
You don't even notice the tears I shed,
I just really wish i was dead.
All That RemainsAnders stood before the door to Hawke's bedchamber, hesitating. She had sought refuge there upon their return from that cave below Lowtown, hurriedly discarding pack and staff in the main hall before clambering up the stairs and slamming the door shut behind her. He still wasn't sure if the gesture meant she didn't want to be disturbed or if it had only been a product of the unbearable grief she must be experiencing.
Well, worst case is she'll just kick me out. The thought wasn't appealing. Still, he turned the knob and entered.
Hawke had hastily discarded her robes which lay before the great bed, a sight which normally would have set him aflame. Focus, Anders. He was, after all, just a man.
At first, she was nowhere to be found, but then he spotted a head of jet black hair. She was sitting on the floor, propped up against the bed and staring into the fireplace. Without a word, he rounded the bed's corner and sat gingerly beside her. When she still didn't speak, motio
PersephoneI fed her
and she cried
at every frozen sunrise
for 180 days.
With cracks in my heart
caught in my hair
I counted 180 more.
In Sickness and in HealthIn Sickness and in Health
The weather was rotten. Storm clouds boiled overhead, a nasty dark grey and green. Her leather armor stuck to her in places she'd forgotten she'd had, her hair a dripping mass that, no matter how hard she tried, would not stay out of her eyes. On top of that, she'd been stopping every few hours to relieve what little contents had been in her stomach along the roadside. Now it was nothing but dry heaves which, in her mind, were worse. She didn't feel feverish, but she was sure that would probably crop up sometime soon, between the weather and the state of her stomach.
"Why couldn't the Orlesian Wardens and the citizens of Amaranthine find some common ground between each other so they could work together? Why do I have to get involved? Thank the Maker I did learn something about running a teyrnir from my father - an arling shouldn't be too much different. I j
To Have and to HoldTo Have And To Hold
The wedding was tomorrow. Oh how those six months flew by, though to Alistair, the time just seemed to crawl. His bride-to-be was ensconced within Arl Eamon's estate, surrounded by Leliana and Wynne, while he was stuck at the palace staring at the correspondence strewn over his desk but not actually seeing what was in front of him. By Andraste's flaming sword, how was he supposed to concentrate on his duties when the day he had been looking forward to was just around the corner? In just under twenty-four hours, Reagan Cousland was to become Reagan Theirin, finally his by the laws of state and country, under the watchful gaze of the Maker. Sighing, he pushed back his chair and stood, pacing a bit before finally walking over to the beveled window to stare down at the courtyard below. For the past six months, every minute felt like an hour, every hour like a day, and every day like a month.
DA: Farewell My Brother"Hey!" Alistair sat on the wooden chair in his study, his eyes directed downward, he didn't want to see anyone, he couldn't because if he did then those people would remind Alistair of him.
"Why haven't you come to see me?" came a voice, a voice that should not be here but to somewhere else. When he looked up, he saw his fellow warden staring at him at the other end of the room.
Those happy green eyes, the long red hair and long elvish ears, that little plat on the side of his face along with the tattoos plaguing his body.
"Aren't you coming?" the young mage asked, Alistair still not budged from his spot and turned his gaze downward once more.
Yuven sighed, wondering over until he reached the window, gazing out into the world and heard the overbearing silence of Denerim, a deafening silence "Jeez, is it just me or has the whole city gone quiet? I thought with that Arch demon defeated everyone would be celebrating?"
"How can anyone celebrate" Alistair enquired, his voice quivered at the
Blood and Thunder: Fresh Start
Water rippled across the cobblestone roads of Hightown, causing the many nobles to pack themselves into their mansions like sardines; glaring out their windows as they waited for the weather to let up.
Most looked down upon empty streets flooded with water, but a few near the market district got a rare glimpse of a soaked woman running towards the largest house in the area, a mabari at her side.
Maeve Hawke clung to her cloak, gathering the hem as she ran through muck and dirty street water, her boots splashing through the puddles and causing her four legged companion to bark happily.
Despite the force of the rain and the harsh wind she found herself coming to a screeching halt in front of her destination.
A large mansion, the Amell Estate practically glowed. Even with the disrepair it still held an air of dignity that Maeve couldn't help but admire.
"What do you think my love?" She asked in a high pitched baby voice, a soft smile stretching her lips as Marley's stump of a tail began t
Chocolate ParfaitIt was all over the headlines: Sanjouin Masato had been found! After having gone missing for two years, Masato was found to be alive and living in a mansion in North America. And he was returning to Tokyo.
... this has to be a joke or something, Naru thought. It couldn't be Masato, it just couldn't... he was...
Naru threw the newspaper down and walked to her room, then flopped down onto her bed. She could still remember that night, the dark silhouette of Nephrite floating in front of her window, his soft voice... his strong arms that held and protected her as he took the energy-draining thorns and bombs for her. And his sweet face. That dopey expression when she asked him if he had Sundays off. The sad smile of regret for lying so much to her.
Sadly, Naru looked towards her window, half-expecting the silhouette of Nephrite. Nothing. He was dead. Whoever wrote the headline had a sick idea for a prank. She sighed at the memories... both beautiful and painful. And her wish... that silly w
Cinderella:A Grey Warden Story"Tell us a story," Alistair said out of the blue. We were all gathered around the camp fire eating some kind of animal stew that Leliana knew how to make.
"Yes,"agreed Shale, "It should tell us a tale,"
"You have heard all of our stories, tell us one of yours," Morrigan insisted. I looked around to see everyone looking at me.
"Alright," I sighed, "what kind of story do you wish to hear?"
"One about love!" Leliana said.
"One of terror and fear," Morrigan argued.
"How about something funny?" Alistair asked.
"One of-" Zevran started but Wynn silenced him with a stern look. I thought, trying to imagine a story that had all of what they wanted, well maybe except for Zeveran.
"Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl whose mother had died giving birth to her," Morrigan raised an eyebrow at this, "So the little girl lived with her father and was happy for many years, until her father got remarried. But it wasn't just anyone The girl's father married, the girl's stepmother was a bloo
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More