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Rain I am teaching him the joys of the rain you seeRain by ~Camemmillie
It don't arrive for you nor me
Rain tantalises and promises falsely
A houseguest that evaporates before it's seen
Out pokes his tongue to lick gingerly
All he tastes is the sand, gritty
He turns and delivers his philosophy
"Water belongs in the sea, it can't fly, you see"
Let's visit Cloud Land, Yes Siree
"Tell them the rain's late! They'll fix it see?"
No mere metaphorical blows of
Gravity,
Punctuality,
Reality or
Factuality,
Can pierce his sheild of innocence he'll carry
Tightening his chubby grip on me
We walk inside for scones and tea
I hear on tin roof, ever slight
Some form of story Andreas cupped the light in his baby sized hands. He did not yet know it, but by doing so, he was blocking the rays from the inside of his curled up fists. He was excited, he wanted to catch the beams, to call the his own, but this wasn't a materialistic hunt for the light, no... Andreas wanted to mother the light, he wanted to watch the glowing mass live and thrive in his care, when he opened his little palms, there the white power was, staying put and behaving. The little boy had no idea that he was being tricked by the light, he was so sure that this time he had it! There was no escaping once he bundled it into his pocket and ran home to sSome form of story by ~Camemmillie
Personality's Form I wish I was that chicken. I really do sometimes. I remember when Saskia would hold me closely; she’d tell me about beauty and retell never ending stories, sharing her morals as if they would never run dry (as far as I still know, they haven’t). She never held me as close as that chicken in the photograph.Personality's Form by ~Camemmillie
She was the type of girl who could open her mouth, and no matter what came out, there was an invisible and intoxicating love in her words, even when she was hateful, it was because you’d done something upsetting, and all she was doing was caring about you and trusting you, because she loved you.
Saskia, seriously the talles
Doors Most doors have knobs, by most, I now mean a few, they all used to have knobs, but now a door can revolve, or have a handle, open automatically or slide open with force…those doors always get stuck, you cannot trust them.Doors by ~Camemmillie
Me, myself, I love a good knob. A doorknob, with a keyhole right underneath it, so traditional and beautiful. The wrist gesture used to turn a doorknob is so delicate and ever so slight, like a polite greeting.
You never know what lies behind a door, at least one that you have never opened before, it could be anything… unless it is a transparent door, or one of those supermarket doors again. Who has transparent g
Sta.sh
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