Let the Good Times Roll

The best way to feel is to not feel at all. At least that’s how it seems when you’re in the deep end, gasping for air. Try as you might, there is no way to free your mind.

The rebels of the world fight for peace, holding doves above the skies of blindfolded eyes. They ask them to dream, “Do you dream?”

“I can see the way you see, but the question always is, has always been, can you see the way I see?”

Let us stop fooling ourselves, we don’t picture the world in butterflies and unicorns. The luckiest of us get away with just a bruise or two, but for the most of us it’s far more worse. Absence of heart is the way you get hurt.

So take my advice, if you want to make it out alive. Let things roll as they come and go. There is no way to control, I’m letting you know, there is no way to control. Not a person, nor a place, not your tomorrow, never your today. I can’t have what I always want, and that’s okay, I guess. On most days, when the spoiled child cranking up inside has had it’s chocolate for the day. Yes, life is tough, and we do cry over spilled milk, but please grow up. It’s time for us to step into responsibility with a sense of youth. I would never ask you to age, for God’s sake. Please, do play.

But most of all, I do pray, you fall in love with everything around you.

© Nicoletta

📷: Yosemite National Park, California


Excited to present a new spring project of mine. Welcoming new beginnings, let us start fresh with inspiration, heart and a spirit wild. ~Nicoletta

So much love and gratitude to my sister Alexandra for filming & editing.

Follow her @pricklypeartravel.wordpress.com

Face of the Sun


I felt her roots firmly ground me,

Morning dew

Washing the pain away.

She shied her power

With a humble smile at the Sun.


The light on her face

Healing forests afar,

A single seed of hers

Greeting seven generations to come.


© Nicoletta


If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…



Photo by @hellenmangseth: Norway

follow her on Instagram

Willow Tree


Can it be True

If I were not me,

I would be you?

And Two combined



A Willow Tree.

Our eyes would meet

Like once before

Tumbling times

Too long ago.

Where I was You

And You were Me

Not two,

But three


A Willow Tree.


© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…



How wondrous is the flight of birds
How harmonious is their song
How gleefully do they glide among trees
With no worries to make them fall.
They glide to and fro liberally,
Soaring left and right.
Higher and higher do they fly,
Determined to reach the world’s brightest light.
How miraculous is the flight of birds
How glorious is their song
How easily do they grasp the simplicity of life,
Unknown to us all.

© Nicoletta

Perfect Symmetry


Silk is their touch
Heavenly is their smell
From Brazilian jungles
To vibrant meadows
May they dwell.
Intensifying the meaning of Beauty
As they glide and glisten liberally
Like mystical fairies,
Peeping out of green vegetation
Expressing their artistry openly.
As they are serene and peaceful,
Intruders seek and find
The fairy lands where they grow.
With every footstep,
The delicate beings tremble as they know
Once they are touched by stranger’s hands
Off to a distant land they will go.
Placed in dull, lifeless pots
Filled with fruitless soil
Their fragile hearts fracture.
Fiery with nostalgia,
Their mesmerizing glow rapidly raptures.
Overpowered and weakened by greed
Their pure souls can no longer breathe.
Their precious petals fall to the ground
Leaving Beauty alone, without a sound.
Lost is their delicate touch,
Lost is their wondrous smell.
Beauty hides, widowed in black
Her fair partner fallen from grace
Once a displaced model,
Exposing perfect symmetry
For the sake of the human race.

© Nicoletta

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