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Here’s my version of the “I Am From” poem genre. If you’ve never read one, just Google it. You might find some enjoyment out of writing your own. Subscribe to a paid membership to see the many nudes hidden between the lines of this poem ?.
I am from the songs of mountain wind winding through swaying pines.
I am from lush meadows sprinkled with springtime flowers.
From bare feet covered in summer dust, from hikes, and back road adventures.
I am from naked skin caressed by the cool water of a winding river; from droplets dripping down wet hair to slide across sun-kissed skin.
I am from bareback gallops across lush mountain pastures, fingers gripping a chestnut mane as my own flows behind me.
From sunsets and starry nights to days spent wild and free.
I am from a place that shaped my spirit to be untethered.
Here’s a small taste for you free viewers.
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