I write based on heart. I love based on thought. I think based on truth.
Somehow, tomorrow always felt like today.
Somewhere, etched deeply into the very definition of the word
lay the word
By Mihaela Vasileva3 months ago in Poets
Weak and weary, the hand shakes with the pen,
Struggling, throbbing, again and again.
No word comes to mind, no feeling sets in,
By Mihaela Vasileva4 months ago in Poets
What song do I sing to thee?
Thee who is so holy, thee who is so free.
What chords do I swimmingly combine?
So that you call yourself yours, and I myself mine.
By Mihaela Vasileva6 months ago in Poets
I sing to thee, O troubled soul,
Whose waters wean to woe.
I hope you know, or want to know,
That all is not ice and snow.
By Mihaela Vasileva8 months ago in Poets
As this little sparrow,
sits by the window sill,
headstrong and pure,
my eye still watches its defenceless wings,
By Mihaela Vasileva9 months ago in Poets
I sit next to the water
upon a broken stone.
At times I wonder if the water
ever tends to feel alone.
Most of the time I ponder
By Mihaela Vasileva10 months ago in Poets
While the world holds its fools,
Its jesters, and its kings,
What riches lay for us,
The small underlings?
Are we of their kind?
Looking from up here to down below,
Grants me majesty I had never held.
But why so grand
when I am so small?
Makes me think about almost nothing at all.
By Mihaela Vasileva11 months ago in Poets
Instead of writing about us and them,
She jots her notes on a flower stem.
Her thoughts run, run and then stand still,
Do he sing to Cupid,
when in need of love?
Or does he reach out to Heaven,
praying for a gentle dove?
When his heart leaps at the sight of thee,
Wiping the dust from my eyes,
Every once in a while I hear the cries,
Of a nearby creature, too small to be noticed,
Desiring to find its land, plentiful and promised.
By Mihaela Vasileva12 months ago in Poets
Everyone has a poet,
Who loves to swing words around,
Mashing them together either in the manner of a
Stone against stone,