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Drops of water tumble towards the earth, miniscule craters forming upon their impact. A gust of wind causes each droplet to spiral into the bark of trees and leaves tremble at their touch. Clouds pull apart their seams, their misty fingertips leaving trails along the sky. Summer busies himself with painting the world in lush hues as Rain brushes past him. He smiles at her, but she does not smile back. Dewdrops garnish her shoulders as she continues to ignore him. Summer does not breathe easy as he begins to pour a deeper green into the grass. His breath flutters as Rain twirls up thunderstorms. Drizzling the ground with lightning, she smiles.
Hands wet with soil Summer looks to her, though she is engaged in her best effort to flood the earth. With a flimsy touch he reaches out, whispering in warm breezes. She stops. He hangs violent reds against the sky and drapes soft whites to dull the color. A pink haze covers the land as Rain scowls. She begins her tumultuous course to sit upon the bloom of water that is her throne. Darkness glides across the ground and fireflies dapple the landscape. He winces beneath her gaze as he hums with the crickets.
Summer remembers the last lie he said to her.
"I do not need you."
Hands wet with soil Summer looks to her, though she is engaged in her best effort to flood the earth. With a flimsy touch he reaches out, whispering in warm breezes. She stops. He hangs violent reds against the sky and drapes soft whites to dull the color. A pink haze covers the land as Rain scowls. She begins her tumultuous course to sit upon the bloom of water that is her throne. Darkness glides across the ground and fireflies dapple the landscape. He winces beneath her gaze as he hums with the crickets.
Summer remembers the last lie he said to her.
"I do not need you."
Literature
goddess divine
She smelled like the ocean.
I found her naked, flecks of sand covering her skin like a heavy blanket. Her hair was twisted up in a haphazard braid, tangled strands hanging in chunks from her face. She was not beautiful. Actually, she was beautiful in a sort of tragic way.
It didn’t seem as if she sat by the rocks. It was as if she had decided to stay and the rocks arranged themselves around her. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around herself as if she could magically become smaller and smaller.
When I stretched my hand toward her and asked her name, she laughed. Her hand was cold in mind as I helped
Literature
Theotokos
God attended a Lamaze class
with a teenager too afraid
of the judgmental looks to go alone,
and quietly smiled at the instructor eyeballing
the strange pair – a barely-there slip
of a girl and a gentleman with kind
hands. He led her to a woman named
Mary, who had her first child
at thirteen in a less accepting
time, when the condemnation
was worse than the morning sickness.
Literature
Sun-Shy
Stars skitter
behind Moon Mother's skirt,
sun-shy.
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Full Title: Title: There is a goddess in the rain and Summer is in love with her.
This is the most I've written in short period of time. You don't know how happy I am to be writing again, I'm really loving it. Next up will be Autumn. ♥ Anyone have any ideas of what is to come?
Winter Tries To Remember
Spring Has Held Life in Her Hands
I support !
'Personifications of Summer' by TheGlassIris
This is the most I've written in short period of time. You don't know how happy I am to be writing again, I'm really loving it. Next up will be Autumn. ♥ Anyone have any ideas of what is to come?
Winter Tries To Remember
Spring Has Held Life in Her Hands
I support !
Personifications of SummerI.-Worn Wind
The wind, or breeze, soft
like scarves feathering upward
past your shoulders, brushing your neck,
getting lost among the curves of your hair,
feeling out of place and losing hope
then flying out on a draft past your cheek;
we, or I, think it might have fallen in love with you
or died of embarrassment.
II.-Sunlight in Trees
Suddenly human, losing its place amongst the trees
sunlight filters downward like a deep-sea diver
who fell in an ocean of air—lose your place
find a way out of whatever holds you—
Sunlight looks lost for a minute, remembers
the source of its birth: great mother, planetary mass
emitting light itself, holy, infinite;
small as a button compared to the universe.
As the trees lining the pavement blur
and twist, no elegance of movement
here, just sunlight curling about the shaded green
flowing out under your mother’s ordered kitchen, scattered
by the porcelain of a tea set, churned
by the slow, ever-growing rotation
of a ceiling fan. How the
'Personifications of Summer' by TheGlassIris
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Very beautiful piece. I love the line He smiles at her, but she does not smile back. I think it sums up so much of them. This is probably the best personification of seasons/weather that I've seen.