《Random reveries: a collection of poems, thoughts, and short stories》 A poem for an an old friend Ode to a Flat-Faced Friend Silently perched upon the shelf, Quiet sentinel in repose, Yet upon the table, a clamor unfolds, Voices silent, yet tales it boldly told, Filling minds with unseen worlds, untold. A trove of data, neatly tucked away, Marked by bookmarks, varied as day, This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Histories rich, internet now stray, In the quiet, its wisdom holds sway. Beware the worm, its dreaded foe, Cherish the people, those who know The worth of words, against time''s flow, Plagiarism lurks, yet justice''s steps are slow. Once cherished friend, now oft ignored, Replaced by screens, your tales outsourced. Yet in the digital gleam, entertainment bound, My ink and pages rarely found. Invisible, yet waiting still, Someday nostalgia your senses will fill. The scent of paper, the ink''s embrace, Forgotten words time cannot erase. Here I rest, until decay, Or termites claim their woeful prey. Yet even then, in destruction''s dance, To them, perhaps, I''ll became of importance. A summer desire ( A short poem ) A Summer Yearning Strolling beneath the vibrant sun, Umbrella in hand, ready for fun, Dreams of the beach, where sands run, Hoping for laughter, under the sun''s hum. Reclining on a cozy bed, A fan whirring softly to the right, Fantasies of a cool shade overhead, Or visions of an air conditioner in sight. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Taking a shower in the heat, With water too warm from the tap, Wishing for a chill to beat the heat, A spring''s cool flow, a refreshing wrap. Enjoying a lunch with sinigang''s tang, Seeking a sweet treat to follow, Perhaps a scoop of ice cream to hang, Cooling the tongue with its mellow. Heading to school with a heavy load, Books piled high, a summer''s regret, For skipping past homework''s abode, Now in summer classes, a schedule to set. Longing for days of vacation''s bliss, Missing the leisure, the joy, the peace, Summer''s warmth, now amiss, In classrooms, where the yearnings cease. "Whispers in the Shadowed Dreams" In the deep shadows of my unending nights, I lie awake, trying to decipher the whispers that surround me. Everything is a blur, a distant murmur of the earth itself¡ªan echo I can''t quite grasp. Time, relentless and uncaring, marches on, and the cries of the unseen haunt me without respite. Days blend into months, each filled with the same distant lamentations. But among the myriad of voices that pass me by, there is one that stays¡ªa voice that has been there from the very beginning, the day my world darkened and I awoke to a life unseen. This voice, ever-present yet elusive, has been my solace. She speaks of things that stir the deepest recesses of my heart, lifting the weight of an unseen sorrow with every word she utters. I yearn to reach out to her, to bridge the gap between us, but I am bound by the shadows that hold me. As dawn breaks yet again, the sound of footsteps resonates like a soft hum on the ground, and the air grows heavy with the scent of flowers. Suddenly, a deluge mimics the fall of rain, and through this cascade, her voice reaches me, clearer than ever. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "Hey, Dad, I''m graduating next month. Please, keep your promise," she says, her words slicing through the torrential downpour. The rain continues to fall, each drop a reminder of the unyielding passage of time. "Mom''s been gone since the accident; you''re all I have left!" Her voice cracks as the sky itself seems to weep with her. In that moment, something within me stirs¡ªa flicker of strength long dormant. The beeping machines at my bedside, which have kept rhythm with my heart for so long, suddenly ring loud and clear. Amidst their insistent calls, I whisper back with all the resolve I can muster. "Don''t worry, sweetie. I''ll be there." With each beat of my heart, with every breath, I fight through the darkness, reaching out towards the light of her voice, vowing to be there, not just in spirit, but in presence, for the moment she steps into her future. The promise of her voice guides me, a beacon in the night, as I cling to the hope of seeing her face once more. "Whispers in the Shadowed Dreams" poem ver. In shadows deep where night does not relent, I lie awake, deciphering the sighs That murmur low¡ªthe earth in soft lament, An echo lost beneath the timeless skies. Time marches, cold and blind to human cries, Its footsteps blending days to months unclear, Yet in the whispers, one voice never dies¡ª A solace in the dark, forever near. She speaks in tones that stir the heart''s own core, Lifting the weight of grief with every word, A distant comfort from an unseen shore, Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Her voice the sweetest one I''ve ever heard. Bound by the shadows, longing to break free, To bridge the gap where light and darkness meet, Her words come through the rain, so clear to me, "Hey, Dad, I''m graduating¡ªpromise keep." The rain, it falls like tears from weeping skies, "Mom¡¯s gone, it¡¯s just us now," her voice does crack, A broken plea that through the storm does rise, A call that stirs the strength I thought I lacked. Beside me, machines beep with vital signs, Keeping the beat of a heart worn and tired, Yet in their rhythm, a resolution finds, "Don''t worry, sweetie, I¡¯ll be there," inspired. With every heartbeat, every breath I draw, I fight the dark, reach for her light, her face, Through shadows, through the night, to her I crawl, To be there in her future¡¯s bright embrace. Her voice, a beacon through the darkest hours, Guides me, a promise in the night''s embrace, Holding onto hope with all my powers, To see her smile, to meet her face to face. "A Dance of Natures Love" To My Beloved, They call me a lion''s tooth, known to many as the humble dandelion, A common sight, uprooted, yet in your eyes, I see a lineage divine. Oh, my precious butterfly, morpho rhetenor of the sea-blue wing, Your beauty mirrors the deep ocean''s hue, a sight so mesmerizing. I, mere in my golden glow, lit by only the sun''s fervent rays, Can scarce hold a candle to the sunflower''s more lauded blaze. Yet in my simplicity, I''ve watched you from a quiet remove, Admiring the elegance with which you so gracefully move. Then came the serene summer''s day when the gales had ceased, You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.My heart exposed, warm with blushes, as my inner tempest eased. At last, our worlds converged, you acknowledged my meek existence, From a simple "hello," a bond blossomed, defeating all distance. Our connection now mirrors that of the butterfly to its cherished flower, Perhaps a "nice to meet you again," under the midnight shower. I hope our ties deepen, far surpassing nature''s own scripted story, Growing stronger with each passing day, in its quiet, unspoken glory. The future unfolds, inevitable, yet filled with untold tales, I yearn to share each moment with you, through all life''s scales. My friend, my confidante, my one and only beloved true, In joy and sorrow, in triumph and loss, I wish to share it all with you. With all my love, Laelynn