The pictures speak to me,
In a language that I cannot hear.
A kaleidoscope of wonders,
In every color of the spectrum.
The joy and sorrow they carry,
Seen in the vibrant hues.
A moment in time established,
Captured in a single frame.
The power of words,
Cannot match their might.
For in an instant, a story is told,
Where the heart can take flight.
A beauty in their stillness,
A peacefulness in their sight.
Passing the time,
The pictures paint the night.
A kaleidoscope of wonders,
In every color of the spectrum.
The joy and sorrow they carry,
About the Creator
Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Craven3 days ago in Fiction
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