Sunflower🌻for Emily

Where the Evening Breathes

Image credit to Volker Lehmann

In the hush between hustle and home,
the city exhales a golden sigh—

as if tired of holding its breath
through the clamor of dreams passing by.
Crimson spills on the glass and chrome,
a twilight kiss from the falling day,
and buildings like steadfast hearts arise,
etched in silence, fading away.
A steeple leans toward the colored sky,
not in yearning, but in grace—
like love, reaching without asking,
soft and certain, finding its place.
Each street is a story on repeat:
beginnings, detours, long goodbyes—
and yet we walk, still hoping to meet
one soul that steadies all our why’s.
So let this quiet moment linger—

a love note tucked in urban breath.
For even in steel and rushing lights,
life finds beauty in what’s left.

~ €mpêråtrïzV

~ Copyright ©EmperatrizV @Sunflower for Emily, 18 June 2025 - All Rights Reserved

Echoes of 1898

Image credit to the site of: The Philippine Reporter

Four centuries bound, a nation wept,
Under foreign rule, its dreams were kept.
From shores of pearl to mountain steep,
A people longed, their wounds ran deep.
Spain’s iron grip, cold chains confined,
Cities silenced, faith redefined.
Gold and gospel twined as one,
While voices dimmed beneath the sun.
Yet embers stirred, their fire untamed,
A whisper turned to roaring flame.
Bonifacio rose, with sword in hand,
His cry electrified the land.
Rizal with ink, his justice wove,
A martyr’s blood, the seeds he sowed.
Through exile’s pain and prison’s keep,
His words awoke the souls asleep.
The Katipuneros carved the way,
Their bolos sang, their hearts unchained.
From Cavite’s clash to Balintawak,
Their courage cracked the midnight black.
Then came the dawn—June twelve, the date,
The world stood still to watch fate take.
A flag was raised, the anthem soared,
A nation freed, its spirit roared.
But freedom’s cost was steep and wide,
New hands reached forth to shape its tide.
Yet through the trials, through the test,
The Filipino heart beats unoppressed.
So hear the echoes, proud and bold,
The tales of heroes, scarred yet gold.
For every drop of blood once paid,
A nation stands—unbent, unstayed.

~ €mpêråtrïzV

~ Copyright ©EmperatrizV @Sunflower for Emily, 12 June 2025 - All Rights Reserved

The Scent of Sunflower

A whisper of warmth in golden air,

The sunflower sways with a knowing stare.

Its scent—soft earth, bright days anew,

A breath of hope in morning’s dew.

Not perfume, nor cloying grace,

But quiet strength in open space.

Like ink that stains but never fades,

Its soul inscribed in golden blades.

The writer’s way—a sunflower’s art,

Turning toward light, with open heart.

No fleeting bloom, no fear of flight,

But roots that hold, and words that rise.

In every sun-drenched petal’s hue,

A promise bold yet softly true.

A story spun in golden threads,

Where dreams take root and light embeds.

Through weary hands and midnight’s toll,

The scent remains—a steadfast soul.

Not bound by time nor fleeting bright,

But growing still, in love with light.

~ €mpêråtrïzV

Unread Words, Unspoken Love

I reach for you in spaces unseen,
where silence lingers too long,
where love waits on the other side

of unread words.

I do not wish to chase,
only to be held in thought,
to be known in the quiet
before doubt arrives.

You are the one my heart calls for,
not the love I lost,
but the love that found me.
Yet in the pause between us,
I wonder—
do you still hear my name
the way I whisper yours?

I would wait,
even past the fading light,
even past the days that stretch too far,
for you, for the ending where love remains.
Yet you do not see it,
do not know that my heart has already chosen—
and that choice is you.

~ €mpêråtrïzV

God's Children: The Reflection of His Divine Beauty

Image edited with AI

A cradle of stars,

Each child glows in holy light--

Heaven's breath on earth,

Laughter like rivers,

Flowing through valleys of grace--

God's children rejoice.

Bound by His whisper,

Hands of faith weave purest love--

Eternal family.

Each heart a mirror,

Reflecting the Maker's joy--

His image, alive.

Children of the King,

Their song lifts the weary soul--

A hymn to the skies.

~ €mpêråtrïzV

Pages

Where the Evening Breathes

Echoes of 1898

The Scent of Sunflower

Unread Words, Unspoken Love

God's Children: The Reflection of His Divine Beauty