This is a poem I wrote with my awesome, amazing, wonderful, and did I say awesome? friend Evening Star, over gmail chat. Look, no blood, gore, or death! :3 Ahem. It’s called “Ink.”

She was a watcher from a window, never speaking, always writing

He was a painter, always looking for a new model, more beautiful than the last

She was the ever-desirable one he passed, he was the one she dreamed of, the hero of her story

‪Then one day, the wind made their paths meet‬

‪Under autumn sky finally swept off their feet‬

‪She was the painting he had been searching for all his life, so perfect his brush could never fully capture her beauty‬

‪And she was set free, no longer bound‬
‪to the ink and paper that kept her company‬
‪her days are no longer lonely‬

‪And thus through canvas and paper the book of their lives was created‬

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3 Responses to Ink

  1. Twitter Poem with
    WilderSoul and Tarina Trifonoff

    walking over dull gravel and roadside
    under all-consuming night
    our dreams will begin

    take wing and fly beneath moonlight
    soar upon unsung winds
    dare to simply be

    alone but not lonely
    feel the green globe moving
    shifting underfoot

    friends are mercury
    slipping into the pool
    becoming one.

    globe moves, spirits soar,
    shadows shift and waver
    the dream becomes alive

    every journey, every hope
    and aspiration shared,
    though our destination is unknown

    Skyward stretch
    Immersed in sunrise
    Ascend hope’s rainbow
    to Life… Free.

    we come back,
    back to ground
    blanketed in the velvet night
    waiting to dream again tomorrow


    This is what we wrote tonight … I hope you like it.

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