OPEN THE DOOR

Door to Fantasy Blue

 

OPEN THE DOOR

A door to fantasies.
To new worlds.
To new beginnings.
A life worth living.

A door to your imagination.
Where words flow like water.
Ideas ride the tides.
Stories to live by.

A door to your heart.
Love and happiness in store.
Clear blue skies for all.
Wishes set free to the wind.

 

 

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PINK FANTASY

Pink Castle

PINK FANTASY

I dream of a place
Where time stands still.
Petals fly from trees.
A pink hue cast on all.

Climb the stairs to the castle,
Where fantasies come to life.
The warm breeze carries music
On swirling rainbows of light.

Pretty maidens dance in circles
Around the courtyard of flowers.
Men become drunk on giggles
And flirty stares cast their way.

Who is the ruler of this paradise?
It is I, the dreamer of dreams.

WHY DO WE WRITE?

writing: imagination

WHY DO WE WRITE?

Our minds want more.
We need to explore the world.
To explore the unknown.

If we can’t fulfill our dreams in our daily lives,
Then we can fulfill them in our writing.
Stories about love, evil creatures, and deadly games.

I’ve always wanted to live in a small town.
So I created a small town in my book
And called it, Oasis.

I love to read books.
The main character moves to Oasis
And opens a bookstore.

You get the idea.
The main character, Linda,
Is living my dream life.

My mind takes a dark turn.
Life is too good and care-free.
Oasis needs a darker side.

The original residents live in a forest
And only come out at night.
This is when the fun and games begin.

Do you see where this is going?
If not, you can always read my book.
I finally got my small town,
Where fantasies come true,
And some just don’t.

A BOOK FOR ME

amandaonwriting:
“  South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie
”
Imagine a place like this.
The perfect hotel of bliss.
Endless books to read.
Nothing else I’d need.
Walls of books everywhere.
All you need is a chair.
Never run out...

amandaonwriting:
“  South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie
”
Imagine a place like this.
The perfect hotel of bliss.
Endless books to read.
Nothing else I’d need.
Walls of books everywhere.
All you need is a chair.
Never run out...

 

amandaonwriting:

South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie

Imagine a place like this.

The perfect hotel of bliss.

Endless books to read.

Nothing else I’d need.

Walls of books everywhere.

All you need is a chair.

Never run out of a book.

Just pick your favorite nook.

Read the day away.

Nothing else to say.

 

 

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

book flames

 

 

To be or not to be a writer
has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit,
or step away and claim defeat?
One book was written,
one book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche,
and then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this?
Yes, for now
as I wait for the next high.

A DAY AT THE BEACH

Blue ocean by younghunjung #SocialFoto

 

 

A day at the beach

So far from my reach.

I could smell the salt air

As it flows through my hair.

The white sand is so soft

As it holds me aloft.

I want to be right there

Instead of in my chair.

A LITTLE MURDER

The mind can be a strange place.
It can think up dark stories.
With monsters and demons.
A little murder and mayhem.
Skulls and bones for decoration.
Maybe your cup of tea is blood.
Your coffee carries some poison.
Let your mind roam the...

 

 

The mind can be a strange place.

It can think up dark stories.

With monsters and demons.

A little murder and mayhem.

Skulls and bones for decoration.

Maybe your cup of tea is blood.

Your coffee carries some poison.

Let your mind roam the darkness.

And maybe beyond.

 

 

A FALL DAY

A beautiful fall day.
A pebbled path through the red.
Charcoal steps leading up.
Fantasies flow through my head.
The leaves lift off
Until the day turns dark.
I’m trapped inside
A red swirl in the park.
The rain trickles.
The wind cackles.
I flee for...

 

A beautiful fall day.

A pebbled path through the red.

Charcoal steps leading up.

Fantasies flow through my head.

 

The leaves lift off

Until the day turns dark.

I’m trapped inside

A red swirl in the park.

 

The rain trickles.

The wind cackles.

I flee for safety

On raised hackles.

 

The path is gone.

Night has come too soon.

The path is gone.

Lost in the full moon.

 

OPEN THE DOOR

flowersgardenlove:

A closed door.

It can open to many things.

It can lead to a garden of flowers.

It can also lead to unspeakable horrors.

What are you in the mood for?

Do you want pretty flowers, 

or do you want to explore the unknown?

The choice is yours.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://www.amazon.com/author/susanneleist

http://www.outskirtspress.com/thedeadgame