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Innocence Stories

innocence

Spiders Web

Caught in your spiders web!

Entangled withinYour spiders webNo Escape Entranced by your eyesConsuming myLost Innocence Writhing upon my bare skinThe succubus of yourNaked body Your lips close to my ownStealing my lastBreathe You caught meBoth heart and soulForever yours  

Innocence

Children brighten your life

Her imagination is beautiful So precious in all she isPlease don't change a thing Always wanting a hug and a kissThe stories are endless Changing every timeDancing on a big stage Or singing a nursery rhymeLook momma I'm a princess Later I'll be a kitty or a duckTomorrow in a gondola Wading through the muckGive her half a minute She will make you smile With her tutu and bootsShe does so with such style She is not quite thr...

A Soldier's Memory

A poem in memory of all those who have given their lives in war to give us peace

He lay stretched out on the narrow iron framed bed Idly staring at the cracked and blotchy ceiling, Its surface resembling a map of no man's land, A senseless wilderness of craters and barbed wire. Unthinking, his mind was empty of all feeling Other than a sense of utter futility, A weariness that had seeped into his marrow Like the water bleeding from the walls of the trench Whose narrow confines had become his entire wo...

Come stand with me on the cliffs in early morning  As the sun rises over the edge of the world,  And watch as the sea birds leave their rocky perches  High up on the crags, to soar out over the sea,  Floating in wide lazy circles on the warming air,  Or skimming just above the waves, free as the wind,  And tell me that you do not envy their freedom,  Unbound by those forces that bind us to the ground.  Or again at noonday...

Fire sparks a candle bright Small it shines against the night Cheerfully dancing in sweet innocence Leaving it completely exposed and defenseless Soon wind and rain pressure it to fade Causing it to flicker, cold and afraid Ashes drop from the shortening wick Hot wax pools and falls thick Darkness surrounds the little white light Ready to swallow it into the night

Anonymous

When I return from my work, Tired and exhausted, I see her standing, smiling, waiting for no one. I wave, excited, make familiar gestures, Oblivious to my gestures, she just stares. As though challenging me for a game, With a smile on my face, I partake in, Challenging her, staring right into her eyes, Within few seconds, I blink and I lose. Enlightened, you can’t win over her cuteness. She never smiles when I look at her...

Her Shadow Knows

My sister heals me, she neutralizes my poisons.

This Unicorn's coat is shiny and black.It's said he's a shadow of his pearly sister.A ride through the dark while on his back.Reveals a magical love, from this drifter. The white unicorn defends all her family.Her shadow knows all of their needs.Teaching how to win battles with chivalry. Sharing nobility on a string of beads. Inseparable this pair, one lives for the other.Without light, one can not truly know dark.Bred of...

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Through a Child's Eyes

This was our trip through The Badlands.

The sun rose behind us, as I drove my motor home out of the campground in St. Mary's, Montana. We headed west, our destination Badlands National Park in North Dakota. This was the end of the first week of a five-week trip driving around America. The girls sat at the table playing games and watched, as the miles flew by. They giggled and yelled, when they saw something they liked. We drove I-90 from Montana into North Dako...

Cricket the Early Years Part 9

Marcia and Naomi meet a boy. Marcia it tormented again.

Cricket left school alone. Naomi's mom picked her up to take her to dance class where she studied jazz dancing and enjoyed it. Cricket walked home and instead of going straight home, she wanted to visit the wolf family. She worried about the wound the mother wolf had. It looked clean, but with life in the wild, anything could happen. She walked through the woods and approached the clearing. She saw the mom wolf atop the b...

Cricket the Early Years Part 8

Cricket opens her valentines and tries to find out who filled her locker.

Cricket stood dumbfounded looking at her locker, as her new friends crowded around urging her to open it. They wanted to see if anything special was inside. Reluctantly Cricket pushed aside the pile of rose petals on the floor. The principal and some teachers stood behind the students in case something dangerous or harmful emerged from the locker. She handed her books and bag to Melissa who stood nearby shaking with unbri...

Cricket the Early Years Part 7

Marcia and Naomi start at a new school. They make a new furry friend.

Christmas vacation started with unseasonably warm weather. Marcia and Naomi spent a lot of time together searching the woods. Their minds focused on vacation and forgot about school. Marcia showed Naomi where all the crickets lived. The girls followed the path in the woods to Sabrina's house. Sabrina joined them several times on the walks of discovery. One day on one of their walks, the three girls came to the cricket are...

Cricket the Early Years Part 6

Sarah gets her revenge on Marcia.

The girls spent the afternoon at the movies and enjoyed the double feature. They returned to Marcia's house and waited for dinner while they watched TV. All thoughts and conversation about Sarah moved to the back of their minds. The girls found being together more fun and enjoyment than plotting revenge against another girl. Dinner that night was very quiet. The girls seemed subdued and not very active. Marcia's mom notic...

Your Touch

A beautiful page of life closes, but the book is still open.

I turn smiling, though the tracks of my tears still appear on my face, looking at the blonde-haired little girl, as she walks to me. She looks up at me and says softly, "Daddy, it's time. We must go." I look at her and nod. "Why do you cry?" The innocence of the question strikes me to my core. She reaches out and softly lovingly touches my hand. My hand opens and she gently places her hand in mine. I look at our hands tog...

In my youth we lived in San Diego, Or rather I should say, in Chula Vista. I was a youngster, watching the big show. The world was mine, flowering with delight. Nothing was lost to my eyes all aglow. Climbing up into the arms of a tree I watched the scary bull-dog down below. Those were they days when you wandered alone And always were left to learn, to just grow. Getting back home in time to have supper That was the impo...