The Traveller by Afrodykie

F is for … (scratches head) um … frolic

YES. Frolic, it’s a lovely word.
It has a child-like quality: to play merrily. Gambol.
A sunny innocence prevails, in fun.
It smiles it’s so light-hearted, open and unguarded.
The word laughs with an inherent and beautiful joy.
You feel it, deep deep inside, the meaning of it.
It is the essence of you.
The happy beautiful child, it romps in the bright light of love, self love.
You like it, a lot.
This emotion, it’s a manifestation, an acceptance, an inherent celebration of the intrinsic you.
You revel in it, this innate and fulsome joy.
You hold it close. Close.
It’s a clean slate, a springboard, a refuge.
It’s yours. A treasure, everything.
It lives.
A gleaming sun, it glows — from deep deep inside, the terrible place too, where shadows rise.


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