"The motivations behind my writing are completely unselfish and involve a true love for the written word. I wrote my very first poem at five years old. I have been writing on and off ever since. I have always been creative for as long as I could remember and when most kids did not like doing book reports or essays. I was one who truly loved to do them by either reading a book or having to go to the library to do a lot of research. So I guess one can say it started way young with me and has been nonstop ever since. I cannot imagine a day in my life without being able to write or to create something that comes from my imagination. It is both a part of me and a connection to my heart. I do it solely because I love it and that is it. It would be nice to one day achieve fame and fortune. If it is to be fate, it will. However, I write mainly because it is something I treasure and have always done. So let us just say it also lives in my spirit and soul. I love to make people happy by reading my words and I cannot think of a more precious gift than that other than love.
I am 44 years old and single. My hobbies range from reading to cooking to music. Even though writing is a major force in my life, I still have a life that involves family and friends, and all the usual things that go along with it too. I am very much a people and animal person in addition. I love to help others in some way if I can. As making, a difference in this world can inspire others to make a difference as well."Yes. Here are some of Julie A Sullivan's poems:
I Could Soar Cloud High
It's true I could soar cloud high
From the rapture you've given me
No one's ever brought fulfillment
Or touched my heart so completely.
Your love has lifted me way up
To the heavens and what is beyond
I'm both carefree in body and soul
Because of our everlasting bond.
Knowing that you are in my corner
Has also given me an angel's wings
Which lift and hold me on the wind
Especially when facing life's things.
You've moved me very tenderly inside
As well as made me feel reborn anew
Because my life truly did begin indeed
The day I was fortunate to meet you. love is life, everything, it brings joy, removes
doubt, and takes away strife.
Say It with Poetry
| Poetry speaks its own language and says what it wants...:). |
| One should say it with poetry If they have a time expressing Feelings which need to be known Or a truth that needs confessing. This avenue is a creative ground The chance to share one's heart With those who matter in some way Who have been there from the start. Words are just words without impact So charge your feelings into being As the masses are waiting eagerly by To witness their magic worth seeing. |
Phantom Man
He came virtually from amidst a shadow of mystery
But the lady didn't care about his hidden true self
For she loved the man that her heart knew the best
Which was the only important element of his identity.
This wondrous, but very brooding specimen of mankind
Taught this innocent sprig of femininity and ladyhood
How to feel all the fiery things that a woman feels
When she's gone and fallen under his spell for good.
Phantom Man, a part of she, yearns for you to lurk
But a stronger front bids her to forever take leave
As she is very afraid of your faceless silhouette
That taunts her dreams and tells her not to believe.
Phantom Man, you're a denizen of reality and fantasy
Who actually is an inmate of both worlds by choice
Yet you heard the music of love from a siren's call
And you became captivated by her beauty and voice.
You slowly allowed her to gain entry into your heart
Something that brought utter rapture beyond belief
However when she overstepped the line and got close
The cast-out and despaired siren no longer knew relief.
She exiled herself to a sea that only had rocky waves
A very distant and isolated place of no real return.
While her once knight returned to his ghostly kingdom
Leaving behind a mask of confusion and lessons to learn.
Phantom Man, why did you retreat, after speaking of love
Truly, you must be as supernatural as the spirits beyond
For you don't make yourself visible and then disappear
Especially while with the siren that you are most fond.
Phantom Man, you are someone, who flees in the night
To escape the silky clutches of a maiden's enticement
Though the lost siren is set adrift by your release
Her songs of life will go on and her spirit is unbent.
sometimes love exists between the borders of what is real and what we imagine that we feel...
