loving, sad, happy, topics that speak with your soul, too.

Speaking With My Soul
Speaking with my soul is no object, but a choice.
It is no sollution, but a question.
And is no demand, but a privilage.

What’s in a Rose
A signature, two signatures,
Signing off a burning love.
Each petal like each day in love,
Seems like the petals go on and on.
A power that makes a smile on all,
The power that couldn’t ever seem small.
That’s the power, the love
In a rose.
Amber Shea Wilder

Sweet Love
Love is like two chocolate hearts,
Sweet, and smooth, and rich.
Call them “putty in your hands”
Like it’s a Hershey’s kiss.
♥

Amber Shea Wilder

Spring
What makes the season so special?
Maybe the scent, warmth, or memories.
How you can smell the warm air,
A scent in your soul before you even go out.
That smell of spring, certain and colorful.
The warmth of the sun kissing your cheek.
Warming your back, and dancing in your hair.
The memories stretching for miles and miles,
From your left ear,
Under your nose to the right.
Remembering popsicles, melting in the sun,
Down your arm, to a sticky mess.
Running in the back yard,
Throwing a ball, hit, run, catch.
Under the sprinklers, through the hose, in the pool.
Just mowed grass sticking to your wet feet.
Laughter stretching through the warm wind.
Sitting on swings, rocking forward and back,
Crashing into the sky, hair flying in the clouds.
Down the slide with a quick zip.
Watching beautiful flowers bloom.
Wearing the shortest of shorts and sandals, too.
At night, watching flashes in the sky,
Given by small flying bugs.
So, what makes the season so special?
The scent, warmth, or memories?

By: Amber Shea Wilder

Love Struck
Like a lightning bolt inside of my soul,
It shocks and zaps and is a great power.
It lightens my heart and brightens my mind,
As though there’s no other way to live.

Say it’s that thing called love.

Butterflies flutter and tickle my stomach,
As if they know that there’s free birds.
To those flying free birds, I can relate,
‘Cause near you I walk on the clouds.

Say it’s that thing called love.

My heart pounds a quick beat,
Dancing to the way I feel.
I feel as though I am living a dream,
Where my prince has brought me home.

Say it’s a thing called love.

By: Amber Shea Wilder