Power of the Lost Pen

I went to a bookstore one day in search of a place within distant shores
Business, Essence and GQ Magazines welcomed me with a smile, flaunting themselves like fashionable manikins amidst the Christmas Holiday
Though bright, shiny and festive in color…could never tickle my fancy
Perhaps I had been too focused to notice their proposition
I was searching for something simple
As I continued, the fresh crisp smell of books and novels not long on the shelves fixed my eyes
My tradition?
Thumb through the cool pages, let spark an idea and if the story suits my fancy, find a quite place and let my imagination journey
Yet I was dissatisfied
Pondering why disgruntled
To my side lies a pen
Perhaps dropped by one before me
No comeliness it possessed
A simple beat up pen, white and blue in color with some company’s logo fading along its spine
Then I remembered my pad I had packed the morning of in my backpack, which lie, to the left of my ankle while I reclined
I took out my pad and began to write
Ah…then I remembered the origin of my journey
Discovered by this little pen which embraced my spiral pad as if they were lovers, Romeo and Juliet
I wrote and wrote uninhibited by imagination
Each stroke of the pen brought unto me the fresh smell of lilies
The light tap and soft salty smell of rain
Caressed my ears with the sound of children laughing
The touch of a baby’s skin
The clouds presented at my feet
And the roses against my skin
Time had stopped for a moment
People vanished into thin air around me
I had created a world of impossibilities
All made possible by this unknown pen

Written by Savaslas Lofton
c.2008

At Love’s Gate

A traveler walked alone, highway unknown
The mountains surrounded her much like a crowded stadium…there was only silence
The sound of each footstep patterned the pace of time like taps of a muffled drum
Her destination yet unfulfilled
She had come from a town full of hurt, heartache and pain
A town of unwelcoming thoughts pushing her around and aside the very autumn leaves fly in the midst of an angry wind…much torment
She ventured to escape
Love she pursued
She understood traveling this road could be one of chance
A journey that stood chance of leaving her more smitten than before
One she was willing to take
Letting rest and peace be the drive of her life if not reached
The thought alone would leave her contented feeling the journey’s worth
This young woman and people like her are searching, surrounded by a cloud of witnesses from distant places: spectators, predators, and ones whom qualify
Their hearts traveling still
In search of love
In search of peace
In search of someone to love
Be loved…
Finally welcomed at last at love’s gate…the place to finally call home

By Savaslas Lofton
c.2008