Cynthia A. Morgan's Blog, page 54
September 29, 2021
The Secret – #Poetry of #Love and #Romance
You are the Vision I seek
When I close my eyes,
The Melody I sing
When I Revel with Sighs.
You are the Trance
I Dream when I Sleep,
The Shivers that Kiss me,
The Secret I Keep.
You are the Angel
Whispering Love,
The Sweet Intoxication
I never speak of.
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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by: Iardacil at Deviantart.
#WordlessWednesday – Autumnal Reflections
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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photographs found on Google Image Search. Credit Acknowledged to the Amazing Original Photographers.
September 28, 2021
#WordlessWednesday – Autumnal Bronze
~Morgan~
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All Photos found on Pinterest. Credit Acknowledged to the Original Photographers. Thank you !
September 27, 2021
Dark Concerto – #DarkPoetry
Dark Concerto, Spinning, Romancing,
Seductive, Pounding, Sulkily Entrancing;
Glowering in the Rouge Moonlight,
Courting Oblivion with Vapid Sight.
Empty my Heart to Simplistic Remedy,
With Twisting Thoughts too Dark to See,
And For an Intrinsic, Devilish Hour,
I Savor Your Tempting, Delirious Power;
Even as Daylight is Gallantly Spreading,
I Lure the Melancholy I am dreading.
~Morgan~
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Beautiful Image found on Pinterest
September 24, 2021
#Fantasy #BookoftheYear #FREE – Don’t Want to Miss This!
★‿¸.•*´´*•.¸(*•.¸¸.•*)¸.•*´´*•.¸‿★
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FREE Sept 25-29 ONLY
Amazon Best Seller!
Winner of the Readers Favorite Silver Medal for Fantasy!
Awarded Book of the Year (2020) by the Independent Author Network!
Voted Book of the Year (2020) by my fellow writers in Next Chapter Publishing!
In the year 2446, the world exists as a mere shell of what it used to be. The Great Cataclysm tore the human race apart as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse rode. War, Pestilence, Famine… Only Death has yet to ride.
Archangel Tzadkiel, Angel of Mercy, takes the task upon himself to find one human on the planet who still understands mercy. Humans are a treacherous species and as his journey nears its end, he fears he may never find that person. When he is captured by soldiers of the ruling tyrannical faction, The Eminent Protectorate, hope wanes even further.
A mere scullery maid, Lourdes, hears screams from her room every night. They break her heart and haunt her nightmares, and though she doesn’t know who they come from, she longs to find him and help him.
When she does, Lourdes discovers she’s opened a door she might regret and entered a world darker than she ever imagined.
***Caution- This book contains brief scenes of violence and rape. Though not explicit, these may be triggers for some readers.***
~Morgan~
September 23, 2021
Burning Question #3 – What #TypesofWriting Do You Prefer?
Here it is, Burning Question #3. (insert wild, cheering, jeering applause here)
What sort of writing do you prefer to do the most? And, of course, Why? (Please do leave YOUR smoldering answers in the comments section, since this is rather the point )
MY Smoldering Answer: I particularly love writing description and it matters very little what it might be that I’m describing (within reason). In fact, I have a story I’ve presently laid by for a while, unfinished, but occasionally still work on or read over (I know you understand how that works, even though it sounds insane); the story is about two young people living on an island (just to dumb it down to the bare minimums). In this story, I actually wrote an entire chapter…12 single-spaced typed-pages, just describing the island as it passes through a single day and the only “exciting” thing that happens is that a thunderstorm rolls across the island during the afternoon. Sounds boring, yes, but reading it is rather like taking a holiday without leaving your chair.
Description can take a lot of different forms, however, and more recently I’ve enjoyed writing /describing the beautiful, yet often quite sinister, world of Jindaryn in my Novelette “Dark Fey”. Writing these suspense scenes has also become a particular favourite, of which there are many in this current tale.
And being a lover of words, I could, of course, continue describing my fancy for description, but describing such a fancy might lead you to describe my description as a touch more than fanciful.:)
~Morgan~
September 22, 2021
Unmask My Soul – #LovePoetry & #Passion
Lover, come, Unto my Heart,
With Zealous, Devoted Fire,
And Let me Never turn away,
O, Let me Never tire;
For in the Dappled Midnight Hour,
With Luminous Illusion,
Passion Seeks the Blushing Flower,
And All of its confusion.
Lover, Come, Unto my Spirit,
Gentle let Your Devotion Be,
Pour out Your Fervor, Moment by Moment,
Play my Desire like Symphony.
For as the Moonlit night Expands,
Your Piquant Charms I Eagerly Extol,
Caress my Senses with Your Loving Hands,
And Unmask My Blushing Soul.
~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original artwork by : Katarina Sokolova-Latans’ka
September 21, 2021
Sweetness – #Passionate #LovePoetry
His eyes reflect the Colours of His Vivid Soul.
His Heart, unclaimed, Is ever my Goal.
His Hands are a Work of Priceless Art,
Breathtaking Perfection in Every part.
His Smile is Entrancing, Enwrapping Seduction,
Leading me, Always, to a Single deduction.
Irresistible in His Masculine Guile,
Dimples caress His Beguiling Smile;
His voice is Symphony; Masterful Sound,
Which makes me Gasp and my heart Pound.
His Body Abundance;
His Spirit Completeness,
Sweetness surrounding Sweetness.
~Morgan~
September 20, 2021
Potent Power – #Introspective #Love #Poetry
Words
Like a Pallet of Paint to Bedeck a barren canvas with depths otherwise unknown,
stand ready to unmask me.
Call I then upon their Potent Power
to Speak for me in tongues which I would otherwise be ignorant of
and let them spill out in Endless Fashion,
so that, by some means as I may be incapable of comprehending,
they tell the Secret Truth about my Heart of Hearts.
Listen, then, with an attentive ear so each word may Fulfill its Purpose.
Give over the haste of an accusing mind to the Power of these pawns,
Which now I use so incompetently to extricate myself.
There is a numbing silence
that parades around the inmost parts of me.
An acquiescence of spirit that, at times, threatens to undo me.
Murderous and suffocating in its heaviness of burden,
pain taunts my every fiber.
The shallowness of Love and it’s every Endeavor,
it’s every deception,
it’s every blaze of unbridled passion and confusions of ecstasy
spin my senses beyond my comprehension.
What is there, then, in this plan of existence we call reality
to give us any semblance of Meaning or Purpose?
How do we measure the challenge of continued breath
against the chaos of each beat of our Hearts?
There is an unquestionable merit to Patience, but I am yet to understand it.
Give me greed, hatred, or luckless ambition,
for in these tempestuous actions exists some concordance of logic,
but what of Love?
It does not give us any measure of profit,
it relinquishes no material gains;
yet we track it relentlessly.
It is belittling.
It is Empowering.
It is madness cast upon a writhing sea wherein there lies little Hope.
It is bitter, severing loneliness;
A place I run to where I might hide myself and from where I run to hide.
Still; I cannot hide.
Love is All I truly Long for, Hope for, Dream of.
It is the Apparition, the Mirage I witness all around and, yet, cannot Touch.
Each time I suppose myself to be attaining it,
Love vanishes into silvery nothingness,
only to reappear at the very limit of my perception.
Shall I, then, chase after it?
Or shall I sit down among the dry and dusty tumbleweeds
to wait out the drugery of yet another wearisome day?
Nay.
I Stand.
I Walk.
I Run.
Ever and Always, chasing the muse.
Endlessly desirous with Hope as Expectant within me as the Glorious Vision itself,
casting all my anticipation upon the one
Who is ever capable of combating all the ruthlessness of this bleak existence,
and in that Decisive Act of Irrevocable Trust,
I Behold the Potent Power of the Manifestation.
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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterest
September 19, 2021
Give My All – #LovePoetry
The Beat is Pounding,
The Pulse is Racing,
Lingering shadows, Suffused,
Are chasing,
Dancing Light
Upon the wall,
Secretly Waiting to Give My All.
While I’m Watching,
While I’m Pacing,
Whispers of Suggestion, Enthralled,
Unlacing,
The Fabric of this Moment,
As it Falls,
Yearning, Unmasked, to Give my All.
Your Body is Moving,
Your Hands are Reaching,
The Driving Music, Echoing,
Teaching;
Our Hearts Unite,
Our Spirits Call,
Dancing Together, I Give my All.
~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found at: http://www.auto0moto.blogspot.com
