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Portent: Telling Tolls

By Stephanie Wintermute All Rights Reserved ©

Poetry

Prologue?

This act serves as a consistent reminder that whenever one reads something, their life might be changed by it to the point that it may not be recalled to its former lackluster. 

My humble request is that when you read these poems, you remember your humanity with every breath and challenge yourself to be present with your emotions, no matter what chord is struck within you.

It may be very difficult at first. Take heart. I am here with you, even now. We are wondering aloud at our plight in the digestion of others' words so very kindly or garishly arranged. 

I am with you. Let us move through these lines together, without fear or hopelessness that we shall be lost to one another between the pages.

My love goes out to you, my light in the stale dimness of city streets before dawn, my light in the glow clinging to the sunset. I will try not to get too accustomed to your presence as I may miss you in your absence. 

I adore you, new friend. Let us read now. Alone yet... together somehow


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Deitaro: This one is my absolute favourite so far. It made me think and this is a real rarity considering any kind of writings nowadays. Just.. so much emotions, passion is radiating from the whole text, countless metaphors and i should go on with it till eternity. This definitely needs to be continued. I...

Richard D. Cooper: I wish I could write poetry like this. It's clever because it also tells a story, too. I like the flow of it, the way sentences slip together as they should. Very good indeed. I have also started to read your others works, and will review them when finished. Keep going. Never stop.

Medley_Cafe: I love this poem,there's nothing left to say!Nothing more than wordsthat can not be expressed!A simple thought, an emotion stirredand I'm moved to knowthat the art lives on!Hope you don't mind me smacking together a small something of my own to express in some ways hoe much I loved this, I find v...

novicemaster: The imagery in this prose poem is glorious. I love the way you manipulate words. You seem to have harnessed them to bend to your every whim. The slightly archaic ones like "whilst" make this resemble a fairytale. The entire idea of a prose poem is brilliant. I didn't get the ending at first, but ...

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