Posts

Showing posts from 2021

About the music

I keep thinking about the song I've got on this site. I'm not a country fan so I'm surprised at myself. The lyrics are 'country' ... but to me they do paint a picture I find very romantic. Upon a little analysis I wonder why ... If a guy told me that I was his 'kind of rain', I'd want to buy it! ... now then, what about 'confetti fallin' from a drunken sky' ? I love the line in the song, BUT really!!! Is that really something I can get my mind around as romantic? (It must be the way Tim says it!) So to you writers ( or to any woman ) ... Is the timber of voice more important than the words, or what a man says ...? Or is it the picture he paints? The question is up for discussion. And thanks to Erica for her comment on the last question. She's My Kind of Rain 

Spring ...it's different for all of us

Image
I know -- I know, I'm fortunate the weather is sunny and mild. The birds are all chirping announcing spring is in the air. But darn it my feet are bare and freezing and I've got a cool breesze at my back. Those of you who had snow on the ground when you woke up a day or two or go are probably ready to wring my neck. But -- hey -- Florida is supposed to be HOT HOT HOT! I'll be whining about the heat come September or October when I won't be able to get cool. Right now I'm going to go put on my socks. Maureen

SMILES

Remembrance by Maureen Sevilla   Small hand in large one, looks awestruck and trusting  Rocking on horses Giggling with friends  Hiding toothless grins  Behind chubby hands  Flying down streets, spinning wheels beneath tiny feet Awesome in denim  Chuckling with friends Hiding toothy smiles  Behind tender hands  Dance cheek-to-cheek, thoughts heartfelt and loving  Sparkles in dresses  Laughing with friends  Hiding smiling lips  Behind slender hands  Hellos - Farewells, life's emotions run high  Rocking on porches  Gabbing with friends  Sporting empty gums  Behind wrinkled hands Crying at life,  Beginnings and Endings  Giggling, chuckling, laughing  Smiling or grinning  Behind blue veiled hands

Dream On

Flying by Maureen Sevilla   Light. Airy. With but a thought, I elevate And sweep through rooms at ceiling tops. Escape through doors Flying. Jumping. Running feet lift up from grassy knolls Float high over rainbow colored fields. Floral scents rise up to meet me. Gracefully. Boldly. I soar amidst cloudless blue expanse Above endless stands of mottled greens Until the tug of consciousness Looming. Weighty. Awareness fights certain gravity A leaden mass of dragging descent I am hopelessly earthbound.