My heart
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time, so seems it as if the flowers, in musing modesty, await the mantling eventide ere they give themselves up wholly to feeling, and breathe forth their sweetest odours. Flow forth, ye perfumes of…
Reflections
Your face rests in a glow.
Your eyes–windows to a land of smiles–
their amazing blue; a reflection of that tepid lake;
their incredible sparkle; a notion of enlightment.
Both the hurt and the happiness deep within;
a tingling in my heart;
by Lorraine Courigan