And when the last flower falls
From its lofty perch,
Trickle softly on the air
Drifting down to beautify the ground below
Carpets of white
Like a soft sheet spread
A place to sleep
To dream,
Then will I remember these days
Of quiet solitude
Of memories of now,
Of a sadness that permeates
The faces,
We walk in silence
Lost in our thoughts of yesterday
Of days when you were
Of the last word spoken
Of the soul now gone.
Like the flower that falls
As all someday will
We see the beauty that remains
Until we let it slip from sight,
Then we forget how they looked
Laying at our feet waiting
To be born once more,
Waiting for that moment to rise in the wind
And move from view
Into a new place
The sweetest hope is for a peaceful journey
For a comfort of those loved,
For a sun waiting to guide you
Walking your path alone,
We wait and remember
We hold on to the tears
And cannot forget

Thoughts on a very hard day filled with sorrow of a friend gone. Peace to you B.


Flashback 9-11-1984

I came across one of my first journal/poetry books that I kept when I was much younger….obviously not yesterday….and thought I would share the first one I came to…I am still laughing but at least I was writing albeit not very good…I hope you enjoy.

Whenever you need me
you’ll know where I’ll be-
If you have trouble
you’ll always have me-
I’ll give you my friendship
I’ll owe you my life
…..thank you for being my friend.
Whenever you want me
I’ll always be there
I’ll show how I love you
I’ll smile and care-
I really do need you
for me, you’ll be there
…..thank you for being my friend.

Do you still have your first pieces you wrote? How do you feel about them now? I have kept them, at times wanting to burn them, but ultimately they reside in a dusty place till brought out to the light to bring a smile and a thought of ‘Oh my God, did I write that drivel?” just kidding….maybe…



A spectacular piece to share….I love it and am lost in the images.

Originally posted on The Secret Life of Sahara:

Waves are breaking on the shore,
throwing countless treasures
beneath my feet.
The leaves of the sea grass,
the shells of unusual shapes,
colored pebbles
and other magical trinkets.
Bring and take,
as our life
brings and takes
our joys and sorrows.
I lie down and watch the gray sky
which is reflected in the gray sea,
sailing with the clouds
in distant lands,
creating the mental images
of the imaginary landscapes and places
in my head.
Standing still,
I am constantly in motion
like a wave.
An eternal traveler
to the magical worlds
of imagination.

© 2014 Katarina Nedic. All rights reserved.
Waves Breaking on a Shore circa 1835 by Joseph Mallord William Turner 1775-1851
Joseph Mallord William Turner – Waves Breaking on a Shore, c.1835
Oil on canvas, 464 x 606 mm, Tate Britain

View original



Citrus element shades
Of color exploding
Fall sheds her summer coat
Fading green into brilliance.
What once cast shade
Now covers the earth
As the life bleeds out
Leaving brown dust.
The feet tread on colors
Grinding them into earths crust
From whence they came
To regenerate new soil so rich.
I smile at the beauty I see
And long for the return
Spring greens trumpet
New seasons once more.
But she has her moment
Sweet Fall a show complete
Red carpet ready turns
To anorexic naked branch of winter
Before the snow-white blanket
comes to call.


Soul free

Lay bare the soul
To the waking sun,
Greet the day
With a smile,
Open your arms
To what will be
Embrace the peace
Of now.
Sing of life
To the air around
Carried on wind
Lifted high,
Open the mind
To the promise
Of a beautiful moment
That will come.
Send love to the world
Through vision
Give hope to the
Starving heart.
With a soul that’s free
Sun shining on me
In a dream of waking
Of life.

To waking with a happy heart, the joy and beauty of friends and laughter shared like a ray of sun.


Sky writing

If I can write of love
Send it to the sky
Spill words like pastel ink
Reams of cloud sheets filled
To overflowing with the passion
Of life
Of dreams
The rain of verse would fall
And blur the words
Showering down on the world below
Lost in the hair
Of a passerby
Drip by drip falling
To the earth below,
A puddle full
Emotion ripples spread
With a dip of the toe,
Slipping away to the ocean deep
And evaporated back to the waiting clouds
Delivery sent
Silently held for but a short while,
Tucked away for another rainy day
Special delivery
Kept and cherished.

Photo found on Facebook


Search for a piece of joy
Laughter of silent moment lost
Closing the shutters
On another dark night.
Sleep protrudes
In and out
Of restless minds madness,
Solitude lost.
To find comfort
In a thousand yellow petals
The words of a hundred poems
Soft and gentle
Taste of peace
Long denied.
It is here on this side of light
Mouth closed to the poison
Bitter pills best served cold
When the warmth of sun finds
A thought lost
In itself
A day brings forth
Itself through mist
Understanding the colors
Of the rising sun
Through the haze of grey.

Photo found on Facebook


Beautiful girl…

Did you know
How beautiful you looked,
Did you know I was watching
Each expression that crossed your skin,
The eyes lit with laughter
The somewhat sad expression
At the corners
That were there when you came
Into this world
What seems like not so long ago.
Did you know how I adore
The way you are spontaneous
And free with your love,
With your time
That I cannot picture my life
Without you around.
Did you know how beautiful you looked
And how very bad I felt
Knowing you were searching
For those special words
On your special day,
And that even though you watch from afar,
That you read,
Maybe liking,
maybe not,
the words that fall to the page,
And I could not find the words that day,
Life gets so busy
Takes our minds away
Squeezing in all that we can
And sometimes letting the words sit
Like an actor off stage,
Waiting for the best time
To make an entrance
To be heard.
You are beautiful
And blood runs so very deep
Miles away
I spoke the words then
That I can now speak out loud,
To my dearest sister
On a week late birthday poem,
This ones for you
Most beautiful soul
Most gracious smile
And most infectious laughter,
I cannot sing
But I can weave a word or two
Just to say
How much I love you.
Happy birthday sweet Heather….
Love you so.


Streams of consciousness

You come to me
In Deepest slumber
Lessons of student and sky
To fly yet grounded
Document lost
Who I am
Nowhere to be found
On the higher plane
Conscious running free
Like clearest mountain stream
Slivers of silver reflected
Through the rushing movement
Emotion like slippery stone
Creating waves
From underneath
Below the surface there lies
A higher horizon of night to day
And caught in the middle
Between light and dark
The stream slips past silently
And in the moment of perfect solitude
The dawn of realization
That this is all
There needs to be
The here
The now
The who I truly am
A part of whole
Yet nothing at all
A speck
A grain
Of sand in time
Streaming form
Of memory.


On the edge of thought…there comes the words

We live our precious lives
Sailing along
And take all that matters
Compressing it in our memories.
The wide expanse
Of miraculous space
Behind eyes that see
Without having to speak
We gather there
Where words slip through
Like tiny lives of their own.
They move along
Closer and closer to the edge,
Spilling on waves
Sometimes bobbing along on still waters
But eventually they will find their way
To the end of the world of silence
And try as we might
To hold them back
Over they go
Falling onto pages,
In books,
On scraps of papers,
Anywhere they find a place
To exist
To be written
The true beauty is what happens
When they fall,
Flying free
To the ends of the universe,
Where someone may chance upon
A phrase,
A page,
Something, anything,
That connects with the emotion
They feel at that very moment,
That let’s them know
Someone else may have caught a glimpse
Of their universe.
It is there,
The magical connection
Of humanity that gives birth
To a friend.
To communicate through words,
Across worlds,
In quiet corners read
Perhaps by the light of day
Or in darkened rooms lit
With candles,
We lose ourselves in this world
True magic exists
When the heart is free
To express
It’s gift of words
To the world.

Photo :
Vadim Klevenskiy