Something on My Heart

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I have something on my heart I’d like to share. When I began blogging I did so for one reason, and that was because I love to write. Once I started though, a second reason for blogging developed. I was amazed at the wonderful art, poetry, fiction, and photography that is within this sphere of wordpress.

Your work amazes me. Your work inspires me. And since I am an older guy, and because I have from the very beginning received so much encouragement from others, I try to do the same in turn.

There have been times when my presence, or my leaving comments on a site, has been misinterpreted. And you know what? That hurts a great deal.

I have never been flirtatious, and I have never followed a blog for inappropriate reasons. I am a gentle, loving person, simply being friendly. Perhaps I was raised to be this way. And even though I am not perfect, I love my wife more than anyone on this planet. She is the love of my life, and I am not interested in anyone else.

In fact, if you are an attractive female, I thought 2-3, or maybe 4-5 times before I ever hit the follow button. Usually you liked my work, and then I checked out your site.

I have unfollowed sites that seem to focus on soft porn too much. Sometimes there is a fine line between art and the too risque (my opinion only). Yet, I try to remain open, and I purposely follow people that are very different from myself.

I have learned a great deal from you, regardless of your background or creed. One of my hobbies is to study cultures, and different faiths.

Unfortunately I know what slander can do, and so these words have been on my heart for some time.

Thanks for listening, and reading.

       

Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

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When Poets Climb Another Mountain

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When poets climb another mountain in order to set themselves free,

to be moved, to be filled with the words again,

there is always the danger we will not see

the meaning of the streams, the beauty,

the wonder of what was made.

May we seek to be refreshed

with a strong spirit of peace

before we start giving

the words away.

      

The words are only a gift, from the treasures

we’ve been given.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

The Discarded Muse

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As she watched her human, she noticed he was in a dream world again. His feet gently walking, barely touching the fallen leaves, deep in the forest. A twig snapped, he froze not moving.

Hooves tore through the silence of the forest, as two deer bolted over the brush. The muse waited, hovering over the forest floor, drawing her long cloak around her.

But the human surprised her, by looking straight at her and saying: “No thanks, I already know what to write today…..”

She harrumphed, turning and disappearing in the trees. She thought, “If this keeps up I won’t be needed for much longer….”

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

What I Used to Write…

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By avoiding the leftover scars, I often wrote with the hawks

a heart filled with the mountains, eagle’s wings

and Native Americans running strong.

But Thunder Speaking doesn’t

live here now.

      

Songs of My Love will always lift me

and the oceans call, with a few older people

looking beyond the horizon.

      

But to be honest I wonder how many more poems

and how many more battles I can still face

without the mountains in my heart

and eagle’s wings unfolding.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies