Firelight was holding parlance with the living room. A flicker here, a flicker there, warmth and light giggle-chattered on. Crackle and spark. Crackle and spark. The carriage clock ticked merrily on. Whispers of smoke wood-fragranced each breath. To this hearth-side scene, this place of soulful rest, autumnal boughs were its audience; for as the November sun surrendered to its scheduled slumber, ‘twas a square of warm golden light as inviting as any other.
Firelight was holding parlance with the living room. A flicker here, a flicker there, warmth and light giggle-chattered on. Crackle and spark. Crackle and spark. The carriage clock ticked merrily on. Whispers of smoke wood-fragranced each breath. To this hearth-side scene, this place of soulful rest, autumnal boughs were its audience; for as the November sun surrendered to its scheduled slumber, ‘twas a square of warm golden light as inviting as any other.
Firelight was holding parlance with the living room. A flicker here, a flicker there, warmth and light giggle-chattered on. Crackle and spark. Crackle and spark. The carriage clock ticked merrily on. Whispers of smoke wood-fragranced each breath. To this hearth-side scene, this place of soulful rest, autumnal boughs were its audience; for as the November sun surrendered to its scheduled slumber, ‘twas a square of warm golden light as inviting as any other.
Firelight was holding parlance with the living room. A flicker here, a flicker there, warmth and light giggle-chattered on. Crackle and spark. Crackle and spark. The carriage clock ticked merrily on. Whispers of smoke wood-fragranced each breath. To this hearth-side scene, this place of soulful rest, autumnal boughs were its audience; for as the November sun surrendered to its scheduled slumber, ‘twas a square of warm golden light as inviting as any other.
Firelight was holding parlance with the living room. A flicker here, a flicker there, warmth and light giggle-chattered on. Crackle and spark. Crackle and spark. The carriage clock ticked merrily on. Whispers of smoke wood-fragranced each breath. To this hearth-side scene, this place of soulful rest, autumnal boughs were its audience; for as the November sun surrendered to its scheduled slumber, ‘twas a square of warm golden light as inviting as any other.
A pumpkin sun pride-inhaled the sweet autumnal air. To the observant eye it did swell full-large. Its rays were radiant smiles indeed, alighting as golden butterflies that believed us the best of blooms. What would the red-gold leaves be without its blessed light? How could they be painted so gay, so warm, so bright? Early though it was, the day opened up as a highway heading beyond sunset and starry night.
A pumpkin sun pride-inhaled the sweet autumnal air. To the observant eye it did swell full-large. Its rays were radiant smiles indeed, alighting as golden butterflies that believed us the best of blooms. What would the red-gold leaves be without its blessed light? How could they be painted so gay, so warm, so bright? Early though it was, the day opened up as a highway heading beyond sunset and starry night.
A pumpkin sun pride-inhaled the sweet autumnal air. To the observant eye it did swell full-large. Its rays were radiant smiles indeed, alighting as golden butterflies that believed us the best of blooms. What would the red-gold leaves be without its blessed light? How could they be painted so gay, so warm, so bright? Early though it was, the day opened up as a highway heading beyond sunset and starry night.
A rosy apple sunset matured in the eventide, giving generously of its hue to mountains and city same. I imagined it was my girlhood dreams spoken in gayest lights. How they danced! How they merged as happy water colours! Never was a sky more soft. Never was a breeze more clean. Never was a night born to serenade a more heartfelt wish. Better days were coming and not a soul could convince me otherwise.
A rosy apple sunset matured in the eventide, giving generously of its hue to mountains and city same. I imagined it was my girlhood dreams spoken in gayest lights. How they danced! How they merged as happy water colours! Never was a sky more soft. Never was a breeze more clean. Never was a night born to serenade a more heartfelt wish. Better days were coming and not a soul could convince me otherwise.
A rosy apple sunset matured in the eventide, giving generously of its hue to mountains and city same. I imagined it was my girlhood dreams spoken in gayest lights. How they danced! How they merged as happy water colours! Never was a sky more soft. Never was a breeze more clean. Never was a night born to serenade a more heartfelt wish. Better days were coming and not a soul could convince me otherwise.
On approach, the sunny beams enveloped an unvarnished door, one born in evergreen forests yonder. My hand raised, fingers tight-tucked, breath catching in my chest, I rapped and rapped again. My heart raced. My brain fizzed. Then, it opened to reveal her sweet sesame eyes; in those orbs I once lived and died. More yet in time, with love, I pray to be reborn. For they are my kindling and crucible; into them this lost phoenix submits. Come flame. Come ash. With a willing heart, I am home to stay.
On approach, the sunny beams enveloped an unvarnished door, one born in evergreen forests yonder. My hand raised, fingers tight-tucked, breath catching in my chest, I rapped and rapped again. My heart raced. My brain fizzed. Then, it opened to reveal her sweet sesame eyes; in those orbs I once lived and died. More yet in time, with love, I pray to be reborn. For they are my kindling and crucible; into them this lost phoenix submits. Come flame. Come ash. With a willing heart, I am home to stay.
On approach, the sunny beams enveloped an unvarnished door, one born in evergreen forests yonder. My hand raised, fingers tight-tucked, breath catching in my chest, I rapped and rapped again. My heart raced. My brain fizzed. Then, it opened to reveal her sweet sesame eyes; in those orbs I once lived and died. More yet in time, with love, I pray to be reborn. For they are my kindling and crucible; into them this lost phoenix submits. Come flame. Come ash. With a willing heart, I am home to stay.
On approach, the sunny beams enveloped an unvarnished door, one born in evergreen forests yonder. My hand raised, fingers tight-tucked, breath catching in my chest, I rapped and rapped again. My heart raced. My brain fizzed. Then, it opened to reveal her sweet sesame eyes; in those orbs I once lived and died. More yet in time, with love, I pray to be reborn. For they are my kindling and crucible; into them this lost phoenix submits. Come flame. Come ash. With a willing heart, I am home to stay.
Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Her eyes were both the sunlit foliage and the shade of their own shadows. Night and day, they were the same, as if for her the very stars gathered near, such was her mirthful gravity. Light could abandon her no more than a flame can deny its heat. As time kept its metronome march, her laughter lines did spread. The once blank notebook of childhood became the sweetest vignette. Age had written its lines from crease to furthest edge. When youth is succeeded by wisdom, it is a thing to cheer. And so, though skin did fold around her eyes through her maturing years, she held a beauty, a soulful ever-spring.
Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Keep track of your favorite writers on Descriptionari
We won't spam your account. Set your permissions during sign up or at any time afterward.