Tag: writing

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Scribbles

beatrizesmer

In the margins of existence, amidst the blank spaces that life presents, there lie the intricate textile of our souls – the scribbles of ourselves, of others, and the doodles that dance across the canvas of our days. Each stroke, each curve, a reflection of our innermost thoughts, a glimpse into the kaleidoscope of our emotions. In the symphony of ink and paper, we find the echoes of yesterday and today intertwined, a mosaic of memories and dreams, of hopes and fears. The lines we draw speak volumes, whispering secrets to those who care to listen, painting a portrait of … Continue reading Scribbles

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Poetess

beatrizesmer

I am not defined by labels or constraints, I am a free spirit, a wandering soul, a poetess with a heart full of stories waiting to be told. I am the whisper of the wind, the dance of the leaves, the melody of the nightingale’s song. I am the silence in between the words, the pause before the storm, the calm before the chaos. I am a canvas waiting to be painted, a symphony waiting to be composed, a masterpiece waiting to be unveiled. I am the fire in your eyes, the passion in your heart, the longing in your … Continue reading Poetess

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Oh man!

beatrizesmer

In the quiet of the night, as the moonlight gently caresses my skin, I find myself lost in a dream. A dream so vivid and enchanting, it feels like a forgotten memory from another lifetime. I wonder, what dream did you come from? What ethereal realm did you emerge from to grace me with your presence? I look at you, adorned in the shimmering fabric of my imagination. Your eyes hold the secrets of a thousand lifetimes, your smile a beacon of hope in the darkness. What dream are you wearing, I wonder? Is it woven from the threads of … Continue reading Oh man!

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Grumpy

beatrizesmer

He donned passion like a cloak worn backwards, its intensity hidden from the world yet burning fiercely within. Humor, twisted in its delivery, found its way out in sardonic whispers, a mirror image of laughter that lingered in the shadows. Luck, that fickle mistress, danced in reverse around him, teasing with false promises and fleeting chances. Inappropriate love, a tangled web of emotions, wrapped around his heart like thorns in a forbidden garden, blooming in defiance of reason. An exact clock ticked relentlessly, a reminder of the unyielding march of time, while peace and quiet remained elusive, slipping through his … Continue reading Grumpy

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Simple moments

beatrizesmer

The first cup of coffee in the morning is like a warm embrace for my soul. The aroma fills the air and wraps around me, awakening my senses and preparing me for the day ahead. It’s a ritual of comfort and anticipation, a moment of stillness before the world comes rushing in. Empty bookstores hold a special kind of magic. The shelves are lined with endless possibilities, each book a gateway to a new world or a new perspective. I love the quiet hum of potential that fills the air, the sense of discovery that comes with each turn of … Continue reading Simple moments

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Let us run away …

beatrizesmer

In the land where mangos grow, let’s escape and find our own paradise. Underneath the celestial canopy, we’ll revel in each other’s intoxicating essence, promising to embrace like youthful paramours from four decades past. I’ll commit to memory every freckle and every pore on your cocoa-hued skin, while you hold me as if I were a feather in the breeze. Share with me your secrets and tales, evoking laughter, smiles, and tears, as we pledge an eternity together. Let’s never lose sight of why we fled, and let’s always remember to reminisce. Greet each new day like the unfurling morning … Continue reading Let us run away …

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We rise

beatrizesmer

I did not know that the bodies of women were meant to be a museum of tragedies, a collection of scars and wounds etched into our skin like ancient hieroglyphs. We are expected to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders, to bear the burdens of others without breaking. But we are not meant to be vessels for the sorrows of the world, we are not meant to carry the ocean without drowning. Our bodies are not meant to be a repository for pain and suffering, but a vessel for strength and resilience. We are not defined by … Continue reading We rise

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Words of love

beatrizesmer

Words are the echoes of love, lingering in the chambers of my heart. I write to preserve the essence of love that once danced within me, to keep its flame burning in the recesses of my soul. For poetry is the language of affection, a tender embrace captured in the verses of a lover. And if the poet is the interpreter of silence, then who am I? I am a woman who breathes life into each line, even if they never lead back to me. I reveal myself through the tapestry of my words, even if I remain hidden within … Continue reading Words of love

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His eyes

beatrizesmer

His eyes have their own vocabulary, a language that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. They hold the wisdom of ages, the depth of the ocean, and the warmth of the sun. Each glance tells a story, each gaze a chapter in the book of his soul. To learn this language is to embark on a journey of understanding and connection. It is a beautiful and intricate dance of interpretation, where every flicker and sparkle hold meaning and significance. It is a language that transcends barriers and speaks to the heart in ways that words cannot. What a beautiful … Continue reading His eyes

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May you find love in its truest form

beatrizesmer

n the quiet moments of the day, I find myself lost in the beauty of love. It is my fervent hope and prayer that all may experience the joy and warmth that love brings. For when you find it, it is like stumbling upon a hidden treasure, a precious gem that fills your heart with light and your soul with peace. True love is not just a fleeting moment of passion, but a symphony of emotions that transcends the physical realm. It is a sonnet born of the heart, a melody that lingers in the air, weaving its magic through … Continue reading May you find love in its truest form