#creative

Opening the Door to My Voice

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I love walking before the world is awake.
When the sky is still a slate-colored marshmallow,
With just a hint of a suggestion of daylight beyond.
But not yet.
This is my chapel.
This is my serenity.
This is where I re-center.
Windows are still dark.
Walkway lights still lit.
Just enough light to see by
But not enough to push you towards wakefulness.
It’s as though the world, by silent agreement, has made space just for me and my silent steps.
I love it when even the birds are quiet.
As though the mourning doves cooed in earlier dark,
“Roll over. Sleep on.
The world is loud enough already.
Let her walk in peace.”

©️ Melissa Snyder, 8/28/21

Below, Dear Readers, you will find a link to a Voice-over Reading of the piece above. Yes, that is me. What do you think? I love doing voice-overs, read-alouds, and narration, and I’m trying to build up my chops for it. Is this something you might enjoy more of? Let me know your thoughts in the comments and we shall see what we shall see. ^_^

https://clyp.it/tyfs4vhf

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Walking Before the World is Awake….& Something New

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I love walking before the world is awake.
When the sky is still a slate-colored marshmallow,
With just a hint of a suggestion of daylight beyond.
But not yet.
This is my chapel.
This is my serenity.
This is where I re-center.
Windows are still dark.
Walkway lights still lit.
Just enough light to see by
But not enough to push you towards wakefulness.
It’s as though the world, by silent agreement, has made space just for me and my silent steps.
I love it when even the birds are quiet.
As though the mourning doves cooed in earlier dark,
“Roll over. Sleep on.
The world is loud enough already.
Let her walk in peace.”

©️ Melissa Snyder, 8/28/21

~ So I’m trying something here, Dear Readers. I have only done it once or twice before. Below you will find a link to a Voice-over Reading of the piece above. Yes, that is me. What do think? Would this be something to pursue? Something you might enjoy more of? Let me know your thoughts down below in the comments and we shall see what we shall see. ^_^

Clothed in Him

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She woke with his scent clinging to her like a soft new skin. It covered her arms, hands, belly, and chest. She could taste his kiss on her lips, smell his breath on her cheeks. He was everywhere, his musky scent layered over her body like hedgespun silk. Every time she moved, she caught a whiff of him that made her turn, always expecting him to be right behind her. The smoothness of his cologne coupled with the softness of his shirt brushed through her memory, then the deeper, more pungent musk of his bare skin. It was like touching her own flesh just released more and more of him until she was drowning in him again.

Why on earth would she ever want to get dressed?