Every woman’s heart is deserving of a ‘fairytale’ Love.  Imagine that! A belief of heart worth bringing forth to be meant to just be where broken is its own kind of beautiful.


Happiness is to love and to be loved.  And yet, how many souls do truly feel loved—the ‘something’ to have without reason for logic aforethought: A ‘something’ of faith: A faith of knowing.  A ‘go with the flow’ mentality necessary to evolve, to allow the ‘self’ feel the ‘something’ that is real.


She feared a listening to her own ‘voice’ — feared that the pains of her soul would bleed out the tears of many lives hidden of the words waiting to be spoken through the silence. She summoned a courage of ‘understanding’ of question of ‘What has been the most important thing you have done in moment’s life-time?’  She already summized an answer, as she is a survivor of love’s ‘tests’ of endurance.  Because after the scars, she stilled angst for love.


A woman’s intuition is sincere, and even when made ignorant for a time of love’s blinding. She chooses to love love always, and even in the eternal tirings of trying.  She will not easily give up on love so wantonly desired.  She will attempt discovery of means of acquire as she wills a world of her own desire— giving wholeheartedly to love’s rhythms as it tares down walls of distrust in attempts at rebuilding her pieces continually falling at her feet.  She waits for the melting; a smile that tells her he needs her.  A truth in his eyes that says he will never leave her.  The touch of his hand in hers that says he’ll catch her when she falls.   A lust of repetitive kiss of ‘because I Love you’.   Until a moment of betrayal comes— he lets go of her hand, he kisses her no more, and he hears nothing at all through her tears lost in a seeking of love’s undue reason.  And all for a want of love to make love to her like the storm ravages the ocean.


Is ‘the devil’ of mind delusional?  Is the ‘God’ of hearts an illision?  Faith, is choice made clear of reflections of choosing direction— be it negative thoughts of impending loss of worth by idiocy of hearsay, or be it positive thought for the keeping of heart of understanding love’s growth for ‘self’ preservation: Is not love a do or die challenge of worthy battle for soul’s sake?


Perhaps . . .  sometimes she is designed for contentment for a time in aloneness.

Perhaps . . . sometimes a Universe desires her for a purpose as it whispers in her ear, “I am sorry for your rain of pain, but it must be this way for sway.”




Dearest Duke: ‘Move’ your Princess wisely, or lose her entirely.


Dutiful Princess:  Let no man give you unreason to think you are not of ‘substance’.  You . . . are given in loan for love’s greater sake!  If one be un-worthy, have no doubt in your faith that many others pray you walk in love their way.


Perhaps . . . for many, love comes in pieces in a noisy world.  One must be willing to lose connection with people, places, and things that create all the noise in order for the peace of love to flow freely from the broken pieces.



A private conversation in love’s sway, is a heart quenched of wound.

He asks: “Does love truly exist?”

She answers: “Love is an adjective and a verb moving all nouns.  Love, is the what of who you are of what you do, not what you say or don’t say; a word of meaningful connection to just being.  Thus, it is meaning what you seek.  Love, just is— the same as always been.”


He asks: Well, if we married, will we “find” meaning?


She answers: Depends on your life perspective.  You won’t ‘find’ what was never lost.  If you ‘find’ that there is beauty in life, then love’s meaning is self-evident.  If you keep ‘looking’ for love as a thing to grasp, you will never ‘find’ it, becasue love just is and was never lost.  What you must ‘find’, is yourself . . . love is there first, a way of being.  Again, to just be.  To love yourself first, you must dare take off the mask given you at birth by ‘systematic’ society.  You will ‘see’ and feel love everywhere and in everything if you do this first!  Once you rid yourself of the mask, you’ll want no more to hide behind it!  Becaue all truth will be revealed immediately: A joy of all love released from its imprisonment of mindless mask!


Simplicity . . . is where love resides!  No need to seek it!  And even through the life’s proposed and created masks of brokenheartedness, love remains faithful to YOU!  The one thing of life you can be sure of is that a meaning of faith is simple . . . faith is all about a ‘God’ of all things believing  in YOU . . . despite all else!


Q:  What is mortal sin?

A:  Mortal “sin” is what it is, the sins of mortals’ lies and ties created by the wicked ruseful who do knowingly and willingly betray their fellow mortals: A convincing blindness assured, a mask of unnecessay and unreasonable illegitimacy of perplexing complexities of intentional stagnattion of all individual imagination’s creation of perfected evolution . . . over . . . and over . . . and over . . . and over . . . and over of each new berth unending, until each hears the ‘voice’ within whisper, ‘take off the un’god’ly [ugly] mask of unknowing shame’!  “Sin”, is a thing of mere mortal’s sole unsoulful doing by choice!  Nothing more than proposed drama of dogmas having nothing to do with a ‘God’ of all things created of love!


She, one of continuous counting of many, is overdone with lies and contrived controls of mass mania vested in mankind’s religions and politics; words of ‘other’ [hidden] meaning professed through dogma and drama!  She, comes over and over, holding love close to being, to despise the ‘evil’ things of spiritual love’s reckage!


Give her simplicity and she’ll be fine!  The Earth the beach the beach house and wine!  Please take note of the sign on the entry-way door strunned in pink cockle shells and clay purple turtle bells: “WELCOME: NO mask of TV or governed-mentality to ruffle your hair!  Please do leave your un-smart phones on the veranda chair!”


A reachable DREAM come true . . . IF . . . she be free to know experience without a mask!


Love is given to hearts for the serving, sadly abused by the undeserving. ©














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