Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found in understanding of my self through writing. I consider myself an architect of the imagination. Here you will see my creations come to life. My short stories, poems, my thoughts, and a little touch of my life. (I AM SLOWLY MOVING OF BLOGGER< FOR NEW STORIES PLEASE CLICK THE "MEDIUM" LINK TO THE LEFT)
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Seventy Years Of Love
Seventy Years Of Love
Waves collide as laughter echoes through the cold air. Two, walk the shore line as kisses are exchanged in the collection of love. A melody erupts within their hearts, a melody so strong, a thousands symphonies could not match it.
The stars dance along, shining bright in this moment. Hands held together, creating a single point of strength. As bare feet press gently into the sand, leaving behind memories. Washed away the sand becomes barren of any indentations.
But they walk on, with no time to look back. As the night takes them to far away places. Diving deep into eyes, finding the wonders of the soul. Feeling the cool ocean caress their feet. It is perfection in now, everything fits. They sit at the shore as they gaze upon the moon. Swooning in this moment with nothing else upon their minds but eachother.
They turn with romance and embrace. The waves crash upon their bodies, rushing away with just enough force to make them feel as if to be pulled back. Love binds them, this moment binds them. Piano strokes find themselves within their hearts.
They take up stance, pressing their bodies close and begin to dance. They waltz along the shore and look to nothing else but each other. Memories play in a reel as they smile with no regrets of the steps they have taken in each other.
Adventure was once their life, great heights of joy. But now they are two fallen leaves from a tree. Slowly following the wind as it pushes them. Seventy years and not a moment less. Each year better than the next. Though much frustration found itself in the cracks of love.
But no great thing is held by feeble hands, nor built overnight. -----
Thank you for reading, I hope love finds you as it found these two.
"Let your umbrella unfold, dance beneath the rain when others won't shelter you with the echoes of love my dear." Her mother said as she kissed her upon the forehead.
Sophia looking up at her mother smiles as she holds her pink umbrella above her head. Her mother, raising up from the kiss takes Sophia by the hand and they begin to walk. Sophia, only five and her father off on a business trip, her mother becomes lonely.
And so they walk, they walk through evenings, mornings, dusk's and dawns. Watching the graceful colors of sunsets and sunrises. Sophia's mother teach's her to admire the colors before them. Not just the wonderful vibrant colors, but also the dull. The gloomy streaks of darkness.
For everything has a purpose in this world. From the thunder storms to clear skies. Sophia, holding her mother's hands as they walk through the rain looks and up and asks, "Mother, why do you cry? Do the colors of this clouded night …
A Pocket Flower
I breathe upon the cold morning glass as I look out into the open plains of the country. And with my finger I draw a heart splitting in two, it quickly fades. I look back out into the world and design a new one.
I let my senses roam wild as imagination rushes from my head like water. Flooding my view with bountiful ideas. I see titans clashing, gods fighting, I see mysteries lingering in the lonely mist. I see monsters creeping from the distant moons and music flow gently from the darkened woods.
I watch golden leaves fall as the sun begins to rise. The soft tone of frozen grass begins to sparkle. I see birds thrust from their nests and chirp to the vast outreaches of nature. I am overwhelmed by what I see, and I smile.
I breathe again upon the cold morning glass. But this time, I draw a single heart held together. I let it fade as the last, but this time I breathe upon the glass once more. I observe the heart I drew with much thought, much intrigue.
Faye paused for a moment, looking the gentlemen before her up and down. She showed no interest as her eyes steered across his body. He wore a tuxedo, a black tuxedo with thin white leather gloves. His hair was pressed back like a wave.
It glistened with a tint of blonde against the festive lights that stood lit around the courtyard. The moon hung with a delicate tone of blue. The stars shone with magnificence, so clearly they could be seen, any sailor could have found his way among them.
After she looked him over she perked her lips, opened her purse and pulled out a stick of lipstick. Faye wore a black dress with a red silk rose sewn above her right breast. She took the lipstick and pressed it to her lips.
A dark crimson stained her puckered lips. As she painted her lips of an alluring red, she paid no attention to the gentlemen before her. Her eyes were kept strictly to the small hand mirror she already had in her…