The Stolen Dewdrop Thread

-

 


I, a silent thief of moments as they flew,

Each like a raindrop, kissed by morning's hue,

Stole them softly, lest the world should know

The treasure I was gathering, soft and low.


These fleeting pearls, that vanished on the breeze,

I held them close, amongst the rustling trees

Of memory, where tender feelings reside,

And with devotion, all my heart implied,


I spun them fine, a thread of silver light,

From stolen whispers of the fading night,

A fragile filament, uniquely made,

No ordinary strand, no common braid.


This rain-thread, shimmering, with delicate grace,

A testament to love within this space,

I weave it gently, with a touch so true,

And offer it, beloved, just for you.


For in each glistening bead, a moment lies,

A stolen glance, a memory in your eyes,

And bound together, they shall ever gleam,

A silent language of a cherished dream.


So wear this thread, though others may not see,

The secret hours you have spent with me,

For in its fragile beauty, you will find,

The captured echoes of a loving mind

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Invisible Visitors

-
Image
 Shadows in  soft, the quiet spirits move, Unseen companions in the life I choose. No footsteps fall, no knocking at my door - They come, they stay, then vanish once more. They walk beside me, they walk within, Invisible threads beneath my skin. Some arrive wearing laughter’s light, Some bring sorrow that darkens my night. Love comes softly, a gentle flame, Calling my heart by its secret name. Yet grief follows, slow and true, Teaching me what only loss can do. I call them fate, or luck, or chance, Miracles caught in a passing glance. Actors upon my timeless stage, Changing masks from age to age. My desires burn with restless fire, Pulling my soul ever higher and higher. I chase my dreams through endless skies, Not seeing the truth before my eyes. Joy and sorrow, woven tight, Threads of shadow stitched with light. They lift me high, then let me fall, Reminding me I am small after all. Life - a fragile, borrowed breath, A silent dance with time and death. When I hold too firmly...
Read more

The Sovereign Within

-
Image
 I rise from ash, with embers in my veins. I tread through dusk, where broken echoes fade. I stand composed before the circling storm. My heart burns bright flame through silent night. I walk through trial with measured breath and will. I face the surge of doubt that grips my chest. I keep my course when tempests howl and press. My soul stands firm stone against dark winds. I cast aside the weight of former shame. I break the clasp of chains long rusted fast. I lift my sight beyond the fractured past. My will stands steel strong, forged in flame. I move ahead, though thunder splits the sky. I press through grief that seeks to bend my frame. I rise anew from each resounding fall. My spirit stands tall, fierce and free. I claim my ground with undiminished voice. I shape my fate with deliberate hand. I hold my truth, though hostile tongues deride. My oath rings loud clear through the night. I stride through fire with steadfast inner calm. I bear the scars as emblems of my growth. I gu...
Read more

Grieving Grief

-
Image
  I walk through sorrow like quiet rain, softly passing through its terrain - not untouched, nor turned to stone, but carrying echoes of what I’ve known. My heart is numb; no tears will fall, a silent ache behind a wall. No sorrow spills, no pain confessed, just hollow quiet in my chest. When grief is locked and will not rise, it lingers dim behind my eyes. I suffer still, though none can see, and mourn the tears withheld from me. To long for weeping - bitter, strange - to grieve the grief that will not change. A heavier burden I must bear: the weight of absence everywhere. Yet under skin grown cold and thin, a muted pulse survives within - a fragile ember, faint but true, remembering what feeling knew. For numbness is not death of flame, only fire without a name. And even walls I’ve learned to raise may crack beneath these silent days. Then grief may come, both soft and slow, not as a wound but as a flow - a quiet rain on waiting ground, a gentle ache I almost found. I grieve for ...
Read more

Stillness

-
Image
  We walk this fragile road as one, Beneath the moon, beneath the sun. We rise with hope, we break, we mend, Begin again where stories end. Life -a fleeting, trembling flame, Never steady, never same. Time, the magician, shapes and bends, Turning strangers into friends. Sometimes we whisper, what a fate, Sometimes, how did we escape? Sometimes silence is our prayer, Learning peace is already there. So chase not every ghostly call, Nor fear the shadows as they fall. Turn inward, where the quiet light Burns beyond both dark and bright. Sit in stillness, let thoughts sleep, Where the soul listens deep. No victory there, no losing fight, Only peace - gentle and bright. And when the quiet visitors depart, They leave their echoes in the heart. For in that silence, calm and true, Lives the love that carries you.
Read more

The Mastery of the Reins

-
Image
In the vast arena of life’s endless race, Where dreams and realities interlace, A horse may gallop with relentless might, Its muscles coiled with strength, a blazing light.   Its heart burning toward the finish line- Yet victory’s not solely by instinct divine. For triumph does not lie in power alone, But in the guidance that shapes the throne.   It’s the rider’s hand, steady and wise, Guiding through both lows and highs, With decisions made in the moment’s grace, And reins of purpose held in place.   Strength alone cannot claim the prize, For skill is born of patience and wise eyes. In science, in arts, in all we pursue, It’s the mind’s imagination that breaks through.   Great experiences, like treasures stored, Shape the soul and strengthen the core, A rich mind, a world in bloom, Fosters creations that dispel the gloom.   The reins themselves are nothing but leather and thread; It is the wisdom that moves them- That makes them art ins...
Read more

Two Yeses

-
Image
  This love, it isn't just for me, It's where we both agree. Two little "yes" whispered low, Two hearts that choose to stay and grow. It's given back, a sweet return, A lesson learned, a fire that burns, But not just one light holding tight, Two flames together, burning bright. No points to keep, no game to play, Just kindness given, day by day. When you are there, I want to be, Your hand in mine, eternally. It doesn't need a grand display, It blossoms in the simple way. Quiet moments, work we share, Each ordinary day, we're there. We change and grow, it bends and sways, When one of us falls, it gently stays. Not 'cause we have to, but we long To build a future, safe and strong. Forever's not a shout up high, It's choosing you, as years go by. And when no one is watching near, To choose you still, year after year. While breath remains, and hearts still beat, To choose each other, oh so sweet.
Read more

Only One

-
Image
  In the quiet yard, where shadows softly lie, Your tiny footprints linger, though you’ve said goodbye. A whispered memory in the breeze’s gentle flow, The echo of your laughter, the light you used to show. Sunlight caught in downy hair, a wonder in your gaze, Exploring all the borders of our fleeting, tender days. A red rose torn in triumph, a treasure in your hand, Moments spun from innocence, too precious to withstand. I remember how I warned, how I tried to keep you near, But time’s unyielding river carried you away from here. Now silent grass and untouched blooms mark where you once stood, A sacred space of memories, misunderstood. Your voice still dances in the corners of my mind, A melody of love that I can scarcely leave behind. Oh, how I long to hold you, to hear your cry again, To keep you in my heartbeat, safe from grief and pain. I trace the empty spaces where your laughter used to ring, Feel the hollow echo of the joy that you would bring. The toys remain in corners, u...
Read more

When the Summer Burns

-
Image
  No tears remain for me to weep; my eyes lie barren, cracked and dry. In shadows where no rain is born, even the skies forget to cry. A silent ache, a hollow song, the heart grows tired, cold and worn; hope feels distant, stretched too long, like fields that wait for seasons gone. The endless summer, harsh and vast, presses heavy on breath and bone; veins that once with life ran fast now shrink in silence, all alone. The wandering birds of my soul, once fearless, rising wild and free, bury their heads in dust and soil, lost to a restless memory. My mind burns hot with every thought, a pyre of sorrow, fierce and deep; battles fought where none are fought, a weary heart denied its sleep. No gentle wind, no warm embrace, only echoes from before- forgotten light, a fading trace, soft footsteps at a closing door. Yet somewhere in this suffocating night a fragile spark refuses doom; a whispered promise, small but bright, a seed awakening in gloom. For even when the world feels dry, when...
Read more

Will Heaven Shelter Me?

-
Image
Are you selling dreams that fade so fast, Like morning mist not meant to last? I hold bright hopes, though worn and thin, And feel the dark still pulling in. I look for heaven, a gentle place, Where quiet joy leaves a tender trace, Drawn by whispers, a fragile plea- Will heaven ever shelter me? I am carried by winds, both rough and kind, Leaving heavy sorrows behind, Through laughter’s glow and sorrow’s sting, I wonder if hope will always sing. I search for light in shadows deep, Where lonely hearts lie awake, not asleep, Through loss and rain, a weary climb- I wait for dawn in its gentle time. My dreams drift softly, wild and free, Across the world like memory, Chasing shores though far they seem, A fragile, waking, hopeful dream. Hope hums softly, low and clear, When I feel tired and linger here, Guiding my heart, worn and frayed, Toward a brighter path remade.
Read more

When Small Wings Learn the World

-
Image
  Morning arrives with a quiet ache, and I rise before the light can bloom. My baby sleeps beneath my wings, safe for now from the restless wind. The world is wide, yet food is small - a single bean, a fragile grace. We live on little, we learn to wait, for hunger teaches patient faith. Poverty walks beside us softly, not always seen, but always known; a living breath that feels like death, to exist and still feel alone. Yet poverty is only the beginning, never the end of the story’s thread. Determination rewrites what fate once believed was already said. I search the earth with careful eyes, finding meaning in scattered seeds. Knowledge is wealth no storm can steal, wisdom the treasure the spirit needs. Understanding grows like morning light, slowly warming a fearful sky; ignorance is the deepest poverty - a darkness where true visions die. You will stumble when you first fly, fall from branches, fear the air. Failure strips away false pride, but clearer truth is waiting there. Th...
Read more