Micah Park Biffle

    A Returning Love The aroma of tea tickles the air as I wake with the embrace of a morning sun. Stepping out of my bed tossing my sheets from their grasp. I make my way to the view from my window. The soft touch of snow had settled upon the grounds in the silent wisp of the night.   It's a spectacle to behold. A pleasure for the eye as the dim barren ground beneath it is no more. But I can't help but think of him. I can't help but remember his virile touch. How it gives me such comfort, such protection. His smile of ivory and his scent that raises me with elation.  Our time spent apart has been difficult but, he is living his dream, his sought after passion and how dare I ever be one to wish him to fray from it. All for the sake of my own need of him. We are both creatures that have clung to our dreams with great vigor.  Neither has left the side of our hearts and we are each formidable in our arenas. We shall never back down though many ni...

   An Artist's Touch    How lovely she be, her hair curling beneath her blossoming hat. The gentle kempt design of each strain. The dark glow against the morning sun as her dark hair rests upon her shoulders. Dangling like threads of silk. Divine I say, absolutely divine.   Her eyes, their complexion spill with the delicacy of the soul. Spilling like colors of the morning sun against a glistening sea. I can feel her presence even when we are distant in stare. Their vibrant collection of life, how much she has lived in such little space, such short time.   My brush, carefully stroking against the canvass with passion. Allowing her existence to become the reality of this art. Her art, her, she is everything. How wild her curves play against the contrast of this world. Nature bares much, but there is no competition to be had.  For even nature shows she'd be foolish to rival such beauty. Her skin, smooth as the melting light from an evening mo...

From Strangers to Love  "My lady, may I take your hand?" 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 h...

A Land of Memory  As the river seeps to the ocean I feel my soul expand to the glossing waves of summer. Crashing against the once broken shore of my heart. But now my sands vibrate with excitement, attracting the risk of the unknown.  Blossoming with arms wide open to catch the unforeseen as do shores reeling in debris. I follow with my eyes to heed to the beauty of my thoughts. Never catering fully to the echoes that call from the ever ebbing waves.  The lodge that sits at the edge of the woods once swelled with painful misery. My heart was torn from my ribs at the hand of my love. I quelled my misery in the delight of vices as I fought to forget her lips, her soul.  Our feet used to press together into these sands as we waltzed with smiles and eyes fixated to each others glistening horizons. Every flower reminded me of her beauty, of her elegance. Just as flowers sway to the touch of wind, so did her hair.  Such aroma do flowers give, but their ...

What Love is There?  What love is there to be had, if not yours? For I find no other more glorious than you. I have spoke with the moon, it too sides with my heart. It knows my sorrow of longing. Yes, I have spoke with the sun as well. But only does it laugh, for it says the moon sighs with any sorrow. For it knows only the bleak and lonely. Even the stars find my adoring affection for you to be a distant chance.  Fading as does their light through the eons of darkness.  Can we not ignite what I fantasize to be soulfully sublime? For even the skewed brow that sits upon your head, I find beautiful. Your laugh, though you find it obnoxious, I find it contagious. It lifts my heart as does heat in the cold lips of winter. Your intensity to produce success drives me with admiration. You lace each moment that we are together, with enchantments. You spell bind my soul with each look, I am drawn to you like madness to the ill. You are a remedy to m...

A Darkly Romance She wanted a love that was tried and true, but the script read to her. Was a script of broken strings and bloody hearts. A vigorous sculpting of ruins, a burning village of sorrow. Her tears could never suffice in the suffocation of flames. For a pheromone crown of misery plagued the lining of her thoughts. Her soul, never blissfully cradled in the lips of serenity. Her head upon her pillow was the closest to peace she would ever get. She wore scars upon her flesh from the empty and greatly articulated voices of shadows. Tasting her embroiled dictation of self. Which lacked any palpable succulence of flavor. She was beauty lost in chaos, taken up by the unhealthy and wild madness of despair. Painting pictures of rejection upon her dark encrusted walls. Scarred in the screams of what would never be heard. Her pride consulting her in thought as the ego laid waste to any hope. An unkempt heart bled her of countless devotions. Her lips sewn by her own hands a...

An Unfortunate Love Do I begin at the start, or at the end? Where do I begin my dear? This is far from where I thought we would be. Strung out on the misery of missing hearts. Coiled in the cold colors of the Arctic, gorgeous, but untouchable. A mere reflection of what could have been. Distant memories fall like rain, flowing to the nearest river. Only to find their way to the ocean and blend to the others. Where do I start? My heart is no longer what it is, I hold it in my hand; it beats no more. The blood, dry, petrified upon my flesh. Murder I think, was this me? Am I the executioner of our hearts?  I do not know, for your lips are no longer mine to taste. Your voice, no longer mine to hear. But I beg with quivering teeth and a body as stiff as death, tell me where I led you wrong? Was it the constant shifting of my emotions? I know I am no saint in the handling of my mind. Or was it the absence of my affection? I know, I shiver in the act of tenderness, it fr...

 A Romance of The Broken  I love you, Those three words, a massacre did they bring. My heart strung in agony for the world to see. To watch me bleed with boiling agony that not even I could contain. And with no sympathy, you packed your instrument of love, never to play by my side again.  I became an abandoned piano in the dust of your empty heart. And your lips turned sour with the mere thought of my yearning for your soul. A distant hand did you become as you vanished the recesses of my mind. Still, I gave you a place in my heart, though yours was a chamber of murder for mine.  I could not leave what I prayed would spark a new. That in the hour of midnight you would call to me. Not for the longing of an ear. But for the blooming desire of love, for something beyond what had been planted.  But with each passing night, I became but a mere poet of lonely stanzas. Not even the rays of the sun brought me hope. I grew dreary in the confines ...