Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Favorite flavour

Someone stole my favourite flavour and lurked away deep beneath the sea.
He even allowed himself the liberty to devour the daisies and the bright morning breeze.
But little did he figure out the perplexed Rover whose White boat he deserted. 
Along came the Robin. He crooned and cajoled her lest she fell into a slumber.

The Rover sailed away to a fascinating brook.
The mellow shadows and streaks of moonbeams set her free. 
Old flavours, accompanied by new records and Polka fancies swayed her. 
All she could think of was piecing together her broken thoughts and re-inventing her favourite flavour.

Saturday, March 1, 2014


She walked in, longing for a tranquil moment.
La lluvia played with her thoughts, leading her to phases of glory and torment.
Characters flew out of those fantasy books, embraced her into their world.

She walked in, longing for a tranquil moment.
El Pájaro took her by surprise, introduced her to objects of affection and a series of omens.
A formless blurry image gave her magic cinnamon tarts, brought her to a small cottage.

She walked in, longing for a tranquil moment.
La Guitarra strummed out a dark melody, leaving her low yet content.
Life made sense now. She was prepared for the stage.