Sharon Villaverde writes

Writing is like...

Writing is like making love

Creating amatory work to libidinal pleasure

Scribe a passion or desire of being indite

Cerebrally penned each curves likes carnal adventure

Seducing each line, crave, desiderate sublime

 

Writing is like giving birth

The emergence of infant from the womb

Cutting the euterian connection to geneture

Life forms in an erudite chef d’ oeuvre

A magnum opus animate its own

Writing is like drinking coffee

A beverage made by percolation

Roasted and ground seed decoction

Like a convivial theme drinking poetry

A streams of muse of pen scribes

Writing imaginative beauty of expression

Writing is like any other

A song, inspiration, or a muse

An experience of the soul

Become a child with life

Writing is like you giving life to the other you 

Sharon Villaverde writes

                                                               Life Is A Dance

Life is a dance

In the game of chance

Moving backwards or forward

Bends or hinds in a solid ground

Passion is life

As long as your heart desires

The fondness and affection

Vigour and ardour of emotion

Taking control

Moving in a trance

Rhythm and style as the music played

Own the stage, trip the light fantastic

Life is a dance

Making a journey in the limelight of chance

Get up, rise stand or fall

Life is a game of circumstances

We all played chances in one’s arm

Sharon Villaverde writes

                         Nocturnal’s Elusive Dream

White ceiling, bright lights

Trying to figure out

Where is sleep all through the night

The moon is setting at the horizon

But my eyes are still awake and mind is lost

Playing hide and seek with the voices of my inner thoughts

Pen and paper, coffee and music

My constant companions

Making me feel better

Every time I am in despair.

Looking at my empty bed

Though my body is tired

Voices keep on whispering from within

A futile resistance against the waking darkness

I count stars, turn my bed upside down

I search for dreams frantically

But I fall into desperation.

You're so elusive and always there

It's been a decade and I can no longer bear

My heart is riddled with sorrow and grief

Looking for answers which I cannot fathom

With these thoughts my tears flow

Why dreams you're so elusive?

Lying in bed awake

Memoir of the happiness, frustrations and despair

For regrets come hunting and loathing

A strange place to live in

I can't get to sleep tonight

I try to count the stars, pray hard

Thinking of happy dreams that will never come

To the places I wanted to go

I don't know why sleep is so elusive

But I sleep just fine while waiting for my turn

Just fine riding in a bus

Or just fine at work

But dreams are so elusive

For this nocturnal muse.

Sharon Villaverde writes

                                                         The Smells of Rain

Rain smells so good

With distinct earthy flavour

Unsophisticated taste of beet

Petrichor in the air

When rain falls in a gasping land

Kids love to play with dewdrops

Taste and smell it

Actinobacteria’s disambiguation

Fluid that flows in the veins of Gods

The distinctive scent that comes

After a long warm dry spell

Scent of rain called Geosmin

Pearl rolling unto the edge

Overflowing with sentiments

Emotions overrated

Asked once more the scent of rain