truth in the sincere smile

embrace that unites the rhythm of heart beats

kiss that lingers a little longer on lips that whisper

i’ve missed you

i Love you too

joyful tears

sad sigh before separation

the hesitation at the door

promise of a swift return


the belief our Spirits are joined


© michele mitchell, 2014


Song Credit: Believe  © Raheem DeVaughn

Other Believers:



Peace, Love, Understanding (Ghazal)


sultry summer kiss ignited our new Love

over years we kept it aflame admitting this is true Love


trials, tribulations, sordid situations forced us apart

holding on to fragments of broken hearts. what to do, Love?


soothing the painful past with our passion that lasted

along with patience, faith and trust we’ll make it through, Love


too many had betrayed or may have led your heart astray

i understand as that had happened to me too, Love


but once you wished on that Star, Peace no longer seemed far

and i promise to illuminate solace for you, Love


© michele mitchell, 2014

photo credit:



Spell of The Broken


The old woman turned and smiled a sinister smile. The floor felt sticky and all of a sudden, I felt trapped.

Her the spider.

Me the fly.

She turned back around, stuck a long match and proceeded to light three candles. She shook the match which caused sparks to shoot from it. She then stuck the matchstick in the grey bun on top of her head.

“I lit three candles to rid the room of evil energy,” she said as she extended an invitation for me to sit down in a black wicker chair with a red seat cushion. I did, and became even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. She sat down in a desk chair behind a large screen so that all I could see was the top of her bun.

“The couple who was here before you, their four year old was missing. She had been missing for three months. I told them she was kidnapped by a pedophile, raped repeatedly, and buried in the woods not too far from here. The father leapt from the seat where you are sitting now and choked me. The mother chanted in Latin and the police came in my store and arrested him. I can’t have those kinds of evil Spirits loose in here. I had to purify my dwelling.”

“As for you, Love does not happen with spells or potions. Obligations or traps. It is Spiritual. Natural. He will never Love you the way he Loves her. She is one of us. The Lightworkers. You will never be as bright as her.”

I angrily reached for my purse to pay the wretched witch. She held up one finger to halt me.

“Like the Shea’s I do not take money from pawns of darkness. Leave; find Light. And don’t think about recasting the spell. He has already been purified by her kiss.

Then she appeared from a back room. My skin instantly became hot. What kind of woman would do that to another?

“The kind of woman who doesn’t have to buy Love because it is already glowing within her. He is attracted to that glow” Then she giggled, “and a few other attributes but you do not need to know that. Let your imagination run wild. Wild. Yes wild is appropriate.”

She can read my mind, fuck!!!

Then the young woman smiled sweetly and turned around.

© michele mitchell, 2014

Story Prompt:

Photo credit:




they scowled and snickered
the light i never knew i had
a little too proudly
a little too bold
my smile
beckoned them to covet then possess

rapes ravaged my radiance
deception and abuse led to a wish
that shooting Stars actually had ammunition to annihilate
creating meteor showers of relinquished power
but that would just leave more black holes of hurt
so instead i used my heart and hid under a bushel
muting my magnificence

now they scowl and snicker
my silence seen as uppity selfishness
why waste words defending my innocence to the ignorant
instead i’ll leave a light on
for the Love to shine through
© michele mitchell, 2014
photo credit:


never strangers

never strangers

before we knew one another
we heard hymns between the rhythm of pounding heartbeats
found Peace in paralleled perils
sought safety in sighed psalms
beckoned blessings from the Spiritual Source
Love, the only true religion and Soul language
we speak
© michele mitchell, 2014

Poetry Prompt: 365 Days of Writing Prompts Copyright © 2013 by The Daily Post. Jan 15th
Photo Credit:


Just Checking Please…

Check Please...

Lemon wedges with bruised skins spat sticky seeds into a cloudy water glass. Condensation rolled down its sides slower than the tears that ran down her face. Possibly because the condensation was natural.

The tears- – forced.

He appeared oblivious to her pseudo pain as he grabbed his glass and gulped down the rest of his water shoving the glass away from him as if it disgusted him. Like he never should have drank from it in in the first place.

On the contrary, she grabbed her glass as if it were a possession. As if it were obligated to quench her thirst. I could hear the glass screech under her gripping talons. The talons she used to keep him in his…place.

 His exhale was a grunt of power. I do not believe his teeth parted when he spoke.

You presented yourself to me as quenching. As if you would wash my pain away and baptize me with serenity. For a while, I floated, but then I wanted to swim. So you sucked me under. Never letting me forget that you saved me from a drought. So now, you no longer are an oasis but an anchor of obligation.

After many an insipid conversation with someone with the mental capacity of a sheep and the sexual flair of stuffed flounder, I realized if I magnified Starlight combined it with True Love and God’s word, it would sever any shackle of deception and allow me to swim swiftly into the arms of my Spiritual Soul mate.

He then handed her a folded piece of paper. When she opened it, I could see it was an itemized invoice with a big red stamp that read: paid in full.

I now had tears streaming down my face, but when she sucked her teeth in disgust I couldn’t hold in my giggle. She forcefully pushed her chair away from the table and her glass crashed to the concrete.

I actually heard his sigh of relief as she hissed and slithered away.

The broken glass and bitter wet lemons left sizzling in the San Diego Sun were swiftly swept up by a busboy leaving not a remnant of their existence. As I was frantically wiping away my tears, he sat down across from me and grabbed my hand.

A waitress appeared smiling, “Can I get you guys anything?”

He grabbed my hand tighter, “No thank you. I have everything I could ever want or need right here.”

The waitress smiled knowingly at me, “Should I even ask?”

 I smiled back, “I’ll have the same.”

© michele mitchell, 2014

Photo Credit:


What’s Made Up?

What's Made Up?

I’ll never forget the day that my VSF and I were in a middle of a moment that had me emotional. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, he frowned at me quizzically, and asked me the oddest question:

Are those your eyelashes?

I immediately stopped crying because I was stunned, and all I could do was gasp…what??? He chuckled which calmed me down. Then he wiped my tears from my cheeks with his thumb and continued, “I’m sorry, but they are just so long.” After he kissed the tip of my nose, I explained to him that I was wearing a touch of mascara. As I walked him to his car, we had a friendly debate about me never really wearing much make-up. I explained that although my lashes and brows are mine, I do wear a full face of make-up. Ironically, he had a hard time believing me. I would like to think it was because even though I wear make-up, I don’t look made up.

Which leads me to yesterday’s debacle. My daughter and I had an impromptu “spa day” and afterwards we ran some errands. After over fourteen months of not really leaving the house except for doctors’ appointments, my hair grew but my make-up supply was completely diminished. So, during those errands I replenished it.

When I got home, I did what I think every woman does when they get new make-up…try it out. Now, I am proud to admit that I am a colorful lil hippie poet chick. However, all that color on my face??? Yeah, not so much. I’m naturally pale, and my hair is naturally dark, so putting fuchsia on my eyelids, black in the creases and lavender on the brow bone??? NOT natural…I washed it all off and tried again hoping for a better result.

Then I got to thinking, I remember when I just got home from the hospital and my VSF came to visit me. I had lost all my hair and had no reason to have any make-up on. My head was in his lap and I looked up at him. Again he complimented my eyes saying they were the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. I’ll never forget that night because I thought I looked my absolute worst, but his sincerity and sensuality made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the Universe…and you can’t make that up!!!

Peace and Shine On!!!


***The picture above is me then and now. The Love I have for my VSF is always***

© Michele Mitchell, 2014

from the Creator


dear truth seeker,

no matter how dark your skies seem

stay on the road full of gleaming Stars

surrounding your future abode with a glowing halo

where your desires will manifest in the sparkling surf of the seas

whispering the solace of Love songs


do not paint your path with brushstrokes of the past

rip up that faded picture

you have been given a second chance at perfect Peace

embrace it with your heart

dance to its rhythms

vibrating within your freed soul

good luck,

the real you


© michele mitchell, 2013

poetry prompt:

photo credit: 


in time


truth be told

thinking about it still hurts

blamed selfishness

blamed my thirst

blamed self

sent you to the bodega

sent you into the crossfire

sent you to your death

for expired pineapple juice

in a shattered bottle

mixing with your blood

with your last breath


truth be told

persistent prayer is a conduit for forgiveness

meditation allows me to channel your smile in stray sunrays

bending through my window

although difficult to understand

these were our designed paths

blessed that you briefly crossed mine

forever a constant reminder

to drink more water

© michele mitchell, 2013


Photo credit:  www.


no prompt needed for the Truth

no prompt needed for the Truth

natural as exhaling after prayer
comparing the hues of your skin to the sky at dawn
satisfied whispers weaved within the words of Rumi
inspiring lyrics of Love songs that evoke smiles between absences
needless to look search for syllables to hold haiku within my heart
stanzas are inscribed in between the lines of my mind
have enough to write and recite you
no need to be prompted
we are memorized.

© michele mitchell, 2013
photo credit: