Makes Me Beautiful

by tiffanymonologue, my creative selfPosted on One Comment

ME 152

What makes me beautiful? What is pleasing to the senses?

You may answer my curves. I do have them and the contrasting peaks and valleys are pleasing to the eyes. Yet, I believe that the strength hidden within the curves of my body are more beautiful than the outward appearance. You see my body hides its toughness and endurance behind my hour-glass form.

Perhaps you believe that my eyes are what makes me beautiful as they sparkle with blue hues. I could agree with you as I do think that my eyes are beautiful. Still what makes them beautiful is the mind and heart that is behind them. It is the life and love that shines out of them.

My smile, lips and mouth are also physical features that could be pretty by themselves. They are brought into beauty by how they are used. My smile shows the happiness that lies within my soul. My lips and mouth are only beautiful because of the encouraging words and unique thoughts that come from within.

You see my mind, soul, and heart are what makes me beautiful in my eyes. My outward appearance in beautiful because it shines what is inside.

Now that I answered what makes me beautiful I ask you, “What makes you beautiful?”

Beach Walk (A Poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

I walk with sand on my feet
with water rushing my toes.
My eyes point down
I lose reality
picturing a warm hand to hold
contradicting the cold ocean water
happy smiles on his face
as we silently walk in companionship
joining our hearts with friendship
and learning love through our eyes.

I walk with sand on my feet
with water brushing my toes
and dream a dream
I never really wanted to be mine.

Writing Process (a free verse poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Poetry comes out
with my eyes closed
when sleep in near;
brilliant poems flow
when paper is far
and repeating is not enough.
Wisdom and intelligence overwhelm me
when the only outlet is to speak it to myself
or when no one is listening.

Yet when I open my eyes
words fly away
like fading dreams they fly.
The poetry inside is trapped
like a rat in a house unable to be freed
as soon as the paper is in reach.
I open my mouth when some is around
and only babble spews out.

So I write with my eyes closed,
freeing my poems from the paper trap
and write when no on is around
with the quiet of my mind.

Fantasies (a poem)

by tiffanymy creative self, PoetryPosted on No Comments

poetry

Fantasies live in my mind
with trolls living under bridges
and Pegasus in the sky.
Magic creatures that you can not see dance and sing
wonderful dreams call out in the silence
“Come rescue me.”
They need to be set free,
so take my hand
and we’ll go on a rescue;
We’ll go on the adventure of a life time
you life time as I see it.
We’ll dance with the fairies
sing with the nymphs
and drink with the trolls
just follow me into the forest
that lives behind my eyes.