A Different Autumn

A different Autumn has come, full and bold, boasting a Glorious show.  And waning spirit trying to rise, clings to this new Hope, teasing success. But… Can fleeting colour be trusted, when its… Continue reading →

GOD Smacked!

More than pretty glance… in Your delicateness you conquer the view. So light, yet magic, Beauty , defying bramble. Extraordinary! i cannot capture Your worth, a brightness bigger than soul can contain. Paula… Continue reading →

Huddle in

Pause… …Laugh… Sigh… …Thank… Rest… …Indulge… Share… R e c h a r g e… …Endure. Paula Antonello Moore, Prose. Copyright: Thursday, November 22, 2018. Image: Photo by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

The Sprouting Tale

How I wish I could write…like a Tree grows deeply sown anchored in sturdy roots settling and extending girth beneath the surface then sprout of thought breaks soil rising slowly seeking the warmth… Continue reading →

Not…Yet

Falling… failing… drifting.. Flat! Sadness brimming, stunned by that. Carefree, dropping, weeping done… so much lost, ‘til starts begun. Waiting kills it, frost will bite shivered breaking, long dark night. Ponder, “It was… Continue reading →

Fire Alive

Bursting Bright, I am speechless, awed by something so much greater than me.   Astounding beauty painted by the master and given to me, Free.   Yearning for Autumn my soul is captivated,… Continue reading →

The Symphony Rests

Naked trees make me sad “Hold on,” I pine but their arms extend grasping nothing letting go airy breezes whip up cut through and the Symphony rests barren hope “oh, to be clothed… Continue reading →

You cannot reach Me Still

When the music Of the breeze dances in air It’s swish and sway flitting the gloom When the magic of leaves Singing their boast Carry soul to lofty skies When trail of foot… Continue reading →

Fall-ing Farewell

As I watch the leaves of red tumble down right before my eyes, it breaks my heart to think  mere days remain of Fall. Paula Antonello Moore, Prose. Copyright: Monday, November 7, 2016. Image: Fallen… Continue reading →

A Rare Dance

A brush with Spring in Fall  is a collision of Bliss and  Perfection wrapped in Glory. Paula Antonello Moore, Copyright: Tuesday, October 18, 2016. Image: By P.A. Moore.