Liilia Talts Morrison
Biography of Liilia Talts Morrison
Liilia loves Florida, which is the subject of many of her poems and writings. Favorite themes: the spiritual life, simplicity, color, nature & its creatures and things fallen to the wayside.
Liilia Talts Morrison's Works:
'Tuesday, ' a long short story included in the collection 'Seven Days' published in UK by Legend Press.
Liilia Talts Morrison Poems
A woman friend the other day said someone left her stranded the person moved to other scenes the parting had been candid
The wounds of life can't be avoided in work, in play, or deep within none is immune to swords of battle no man, no woman and no child
The spirit flies across the sea where songs of locusts blend with sounds of crystal waterfalls in liquid turquoise dreams
Not A Few -new-
I've been granted blessings not a few challenges to conquer and subdue
Faded denims wrap jaded New Yorkers; Latin pinatas grace holiday porkers. Okies with dusty pick-up tags Run into troopers looking for bags.
Children Of God
We are all children, all children of God We are all kindred to angels though flawed We are all breathing the breath of our God With singing and shouting his works to applaud
Rainbows And Butterflies
In days of youthful heady daze I'd follow butterflies and run through dewy reeds and fields and hum sweet lullabies
Blue Willow World
The sky is ever azure no cloud dare mar its view as shepherds gather flowers sweet maids to win and woo
Last year when the televisions in the windows across the street went dark when it was either time to sleep
Kind words are never wasted though falling on deaf ears somehow each word is treasured and can become more dear
The Purple Hat Society
Do you look good in purple, Do you dare wear it? If you ask this question, You are not ready for
Alexander The Great
There was a man whose span of years Would never reach too far Unlike his conquests of the world Led by a lucky star
Thoughts arise of home-baked bread Set on hearthen coals bright red Grain hulled on the threshing-floor Coarse hands forming loaves of yore
In the forest they did gather Bark and moss in sunny weather; Later rested in the shade And forgot their daily trade.
A Bruised Deer
A smitten and bruised deer
I hide in tall bushes,
Too easily spotted
By daylight. A prey.
In night’s sober respite,
I venture forth shyly,
Smitten, side bleeding,
From secrets of reeds.