Tag: Soul

Wounded

Wounded

I love your gentleness
Even though I see your fire
You are a wounded soul
Who fights
I feel your ire

Rugged exterior
But silently brooding
Your spirit bruised
Its power immense
But always eluding

Your head
is lit by the moon
Your heart
darkened by the storms
Your body has been hewn

Let me heal you
Protect you from harm
Light the way
Out of the tunnel
And your enemies disarm

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

Word Prompts:

Rugged

Silent

Immense

Moonlit

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day – #9 – Love

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Recovery

Recovery

My capacious heart
Full of affection
Secretes slowly
The love you need
Like an intravenous injection

Your wounded soul
Beaten and bruised
Crying to be nurtured
And healed
No longer misused

Let me nourish
Your spirit and mind
With milk and honey
Infuse them with strength
Until once more entwined

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Capacious

Secrete

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Muse

Muse

Beauty surrounding me
Bringing peace and harmony
Mesmerized by the silence
I’m embraced by your charm
As if protected from harm
I float in your abeyance

Becoming your muse
Your palette of hues
Will paint my life story
With each brush stroke
Oh, the fantasies you invoke
Together we write the allegory

Our existence is enthralling
I feel my body trembling
Ignited with your desire
I can surmount the highest peak
Where the view resplendent
and live life as if on fire

The dramas of the day
Suddenly melt away
Comfort in your positive energy
Strength from your open arms
Soothing my never ending qualms
A perfect synergy

Without you I would be lost
Stay with me at all costs
We are bound together forever
Filling my soul with elation
You are my salvation
I will go with you wherever

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Prompts:

Enthralling

Inspire

Surmount

Resplendent

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I am a Rock

I am a Rock

This small round stone
Has warmed in my hand
It is smooth and colorful
From where did it come?
Perhaps the hinterland

How did it get here?
Who has held too?
Was it part of something
much bigger
Or just a rock in the fescue?

Energy from the pebble
Is soothing my soul
I am connected to nature
At peace with myself
And feeling ultimately whole

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to D’Verse Poets Tuesday Challenge from Sarah Mindfulness

We were asked to hold an object for a period of time and then write about it.

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Confusion

There are tears in my throat
Drowning my voice
Unable to surface
It has no other choice

I am emotionally catatonic
As I walk in a trance
Tripping over my own feet
Unable to advance

I steady myself
Before moving any farther
Desperately wanting to recall
What prompted my departure

Taking a giant step backwards
Trying to process events
I choke on the thoughts
Making no sense

How did I arrive here
Alone and mentally spent
Searching for answers
In a spiral of descent

I do not welcome
This confusing mystery
Another burden to carry
Adding to an unseen injury

Wandering aimlessly
With no compass to guide
I have become a lost soul
Left by the wayside

Christine Bolton

Daily Prompts:

Welcome

Steady

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Tilting At Windmills

 

There is an empty place in my soul
Where you once used to live
You have left there long since
As there was no more of me to give

You visit my mind often
Unbeknown to you
You come and go when needed
Until I’m ready to say adieu

I’m trying to comprehend
Where it went so wrong
I know you never understood
Why you’re so headstrong

Independence is worked for
Fierce and won by the brave
Not necessarily to settle a score
And not to enslave

It is achieved so you are not weak
The monsters cannot win
Perhaps that was the problem
To explain, how could I begin

When I found you drowning
Staying afloat under abundant pain
Fending off enemies in your mind
Although always in vain

No one was good enough
To withstand your allegations
Even offering you love
They fell short of your expectations

Love is an understanding 
Not a thing in a box
To be discarded so thoughtlessly
Like a pair of socks

It takes work and communication
On more than one level
Things are not always straight
Sometimes they are bevel

Life is not black and white
There is plenty of grey
To smooth the edges
Of a bruised individual with plenty to say

A different concept for you
Difficult to sustain
Although we did try
Until it became a strain

The enemies in your mind are still there
Acknowledgement makes them stronger
If you would realize they don’t exist
You will be tilting at windmills no longer

Christine Bolton 

Word of the Day Challenge: Abundant

Definition of Tilting at Windmills

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