Buzu

Joined December 2023

0 stories

Bio

Verses sculpted from the heart, I'm a poet navigating emotions with ink-stained fingertips. Crafting tales that dance between reality and dreams, my words paint a symphony of feelings in the canvas of life. 📜✨ #PoetLife #Wordsmith

Stories (101/0)

my bed
A haven of comfort, a slumbering friend, My loyal companion, where worries suspend. You, my dear bed, with arms open wide,
By Buzu3 days ago in Poets
The Teacup's Song
I am a cup, so small and round, With a heart of porcelain, smooth and sound. I dream of mornings, crisp and bright, Filled with sunshine, warm and light.
By Buzu16 days ago in Poets
The Old Rocking Chair
With arms of oak, so strong and worn, I've held a lifetime, night and morn. A creaky sigh, a gentle sway, I rock the young, I rock the gray.
By Buzu21 days ago in Poets
The Upside Down
In this strange land where shadows gleam, And whispers echo love's sweet theme, We stand apart, yet hearts entwined, By distance, closer souls we find.
By Buzu26 days ago in Poets
The Proud Tree
With roots of wisdom, deep and strong, The proud tree stands, where it belongs. Its bark, a canvas worn with time, Whispers stories, sublime.
By Buzu30 days ago in Poets
The Everyday Magic
Not in grand gestures, love's embers ignite, But in the flicker of a shared morning light. The steam from your coffee, a wispy embrace,
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
The Joy of a Basket
The ball, a honeyed sun, arcs high, A silent prayer against the sky. Muscles tense, a moment held, Then through the net, the story's spelled.
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
baby shower
Tiny toes, a whispered dream, A heart yet unheard, a life unseen. Blossoms bloom in pastel hues, A melody of pink and blues.
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
Before and After
Lines of black and white, that's how the world felt, Each day a carbon copy, predictable and stale. My heart, a dusty melody box, long since wound down,
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
Angry Ocean
The sky, once a canvas of playful blue, now screams a bruised and stormy hue. The wind, a restless whisper, transforms to a banshee's bitter shiver.
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
Ticking Clock
Tick-tock, I whisper, a relentless refrain, A steady drumbeat echoing through the vein. I am Time, the sculptor, etching lines on your face,
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets
Weeping Willow
The willow, an elegy etched in bark, drapes its hair in heavy strands of rain. Each teardrop leaf whispers a name, a chorus of loss echoing through the lane.
By Buzuabout a month ago in Poets

Buzu

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(101/0)

my bed

The Teacup's Song

The Old Rocking Chair

The Upside Down

The Proud Tree

The Everyday Magic

The Joy of a Basket

baby shower

Before and After

Angry Ocean

Ticking Clock

Weeping Willow

Stories (101/0)