Grace by Caroline Tiss

Grace

I remember grace,

Like the wind at my back, nightly,

She is the serendipity,

She is the cure,

I allow the silence to wash over me without resistance,

Never have I touched the first snow's powder,

But like Grace the winter returns,

The snow is as white as a pale lily,

It makes me want to gaze in awe at the night,

The serenity is that of a cathedral,

Snowflakes fall upon my eyelids and frost the world with a silver sheen.

Grace is like the snow.

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Am I Late? - poem by Caroline Tiss

Am I late? I enjoy you, I enjoy the waves which beckon me, I call them as they call to me, like you call to me. Late to the party too often lately, You tell me I have always been intoxicating, Perhaps consuming much like the swarming, It is a subtle fear, tears bellow. And you go on like the overture of a cello. I stop you to say, "we feel like lovers." I know that it's not really worth it to leap from anything deeper I have learned what I had to believe me, But we feel like lovers, And I know that it's selfish, I know I am headed straight for the pit, let them eat my bones to carry on the tune, You bright eyed alchemist, your magnificence echos to me in the chambers of memories of songs. We feel like Lovers. How can I hold back? What is pride if not my honor? The paint will fade anyway but give me a golden chance I just know that I would break it.

Let the Ocean Breathe by Caroline Tiss

Let the Ocean Breathe by Caroline Tiss To take in Temperence the oceans waves without letting it suffocate you is essential, The sea is green and it is blue and it is red and it is silver The sea is made of water and all those who can inhabit it's flow I delight in the wrapping of seaweed and the untouchable floor of the unknown, Let it Be.

The Price by Caroline Tiss

The Price by Caroline Tiss How is the taste? The poison on your lips so sweet, If the truth is subjective - which it is in the most divine sense, How can you thrash through the thicket of branches that is the heart of Sophia with wreck less hands and no consequences in your heart? The reasoning is because in your futile spirit there is no question whether or not you have the right to hurt, There is not a silver thread of questioning yourself as to why you run ramped with malice, Why should you not question? Why should you not ask where you have cut the vein or how much it cost? Do not lie to me. Has Saturn taught you nothing?

Caroline Tiss Writes

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