Astral projection became easier with practice, but she found that sometimes her dreams, and the projected reality she visited, became confused with the sounds of the world where she lay sleeping.
As she floated gracefully over the serene moonlit landscape below, she couldn’t help but dance along to The Ketchup Song.
Couldn’t resist this!
In response to Jane Doughtery’s Sunday Strange Microfiction Challenge.
A million styles
In myriad colours tried
Nothing fits like you
Sunday silence filled with tears
Born of as yet unknown fears
Will you be a lingering ghost
Or one who stays and loves the most?
Pull too hard and you will go;
Push away, I’ll never know.
Moved to move by powers unseen,
Caught, in vast collective dreams.
Dance beneath the glass and steel
Chasing what we feel is real.
Repress our individuality
Communally respond to ‘buy me’.
Murder of magpies, no starlings we;
A murmuration of the seeming free.
In reaponse to the Daily Prompt from dailypost.
Bare feet carry her softly down the corridor. Gentle curves displayed through thin cotton, translucent in the glow of the early morning sun, bursting over the horizon, chasing away the last vestiges of night.
Coffee scent begins to fill the air. Hot steam, mixed with jasmine billows from the bathroom.
The freshness of a new day, aches to be appreciated.
Because I needed to write something different. 🙂
It is always your time
Between 2 and 3
When I lie awake
Waiting to wake up.
Without your music
The silence swells
Until it is
To black depths.
You burst into mind
A red dress capturing curves,
The music brings tears
Do you still recall that day?
Before you once again depart,
So many words I long to say.
Were it to be another way,
Beneath these blossoms’ gentle hues
Your hand would be in mine to stay.
A boiling sky of storms betrays
The raging torment of my heart,
As I stand here and quietly pray.