THE BOOK

susanneleist:
“  THE BOOK
Please take a closer look.
Something’s wrong with this book.
The words have come alive.
Breaking free to survive.
They are bursting forth with pride.
Smoke is pouring out from inside.
Words need to be loved and shared
And...

THE BOOK


Please take a closer look.
Something’s wrong with this book.
The words have come alive.
Breaking free to survive.
They are bursting forth with pride.
Smoke is pouring out from inside.
Words need to be loved and shared
And not forced alone and scared.
Let the stories come out and play.
They will serve to brighten your day.

 

HOUSE OF ICE

yan-wo:
“ Ice Hotel, Quebec
”
A house of ice.
Sounds too nice?
It might be.
It’s next to the sea.
Ice statues populate the place.
Just don’t look into their face.
Tales of horror fall from their lips.
Better run away from all this.
THE DEAD...

 

A house of ice.

Sounds too nice?

It might be.

It’s next to the sea.

Ice statues populate the place.

Just don’t look into their face.

Tales of horror fall from their lips.

Better run away from all this.

 

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

A HEAVEN OF SWEETS

Source: 

 

Take me to the room,

Where books cover the walls.

Globes stand at attention,

Ladders set to be climbed.

Cushioned chairs for reading,

Tables set for writing.

Let’s climb up to the stacks,

And see what we may find.

Romance today for thee,

Perhaps a mystery for me.

A confectioner’s treat,

A true heaven of sweets.

 

REMEMBER THE JOURNEY

 

Remember the journey.

Not its end point.

Not its goal.

But the struggle to achieve it.

Look ahead into the distance.

Remember what’s key.

Remember the journey.

For future adventures.

For future battles.

Remember the journey.

GOLDEN BOOK AWARD

 

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

Semifinalist in Romance books for the GOLDEN BOOK AWARD

by Golden Box Books Publishing!
http://www.goldenboxbooks.com/golden-book-award-contest.html

 

Image may contain: ocean, cloud, text and water
 Happy days are here again…

HEAR THE WHISPERS

by hdunsirn:Peabody library, baltimore 9.6.14
©hannahdunsirn

The peace.

The quiet.

The hush of the hallways.

The smell of books.

The taunt of knowledge.

Sit at a table.

Sit by the stacks.

Sit in the corner.

Absorb the essence.

Hear the whispers.

Of readers.

Of authors.

Read about love.

About adventure.

About history.

About life.

OLD BOOKSTORE

Why don’t we have these anymore?

Books covering ceiling to floor.

Happiness between the binding.

What a perfect and safe finding.

Read in the candlelight.

Nothing can be as right.

Pictures and words before my eyes.

Reading about truth and some lies.

You’ll definitely find me hiding.

The tall shelves of books I’ll be minding.

HELL HAS ARRIVED

 

 

HELL HAS ARRIVED

Darkness is approaching.

The Dead are walking.

The storm is gathering speed.

Tree limbs and debris fly by.

Heavy rains  pummel the streets.

It’s too late for us.

We must find shelter.

Hell has unleashed its demons

And they’ve come for us.

Run!

THE DEAD GAME