The soothing algorithm of his touch – That’s what makes her love him so much. And the machine learning of her brain, That makes few words of hers be said in vain. The cookies gathered from their babbling Fill up the computer space but only for a twinkling. It’s the chat box at the southeast of his screen, Where she pops up like a scintillating heart beam. Together their brain cells form some kind of a web With wireless transmission like flow and ebb.   Take care, Helena Smole, author of: – a fantasy novel with romance Vivvy and Izzy the Dwarf: A series about relationships –...

Friendship. Subtle as an early-spring-breeze. A buoyant flower that does not make you sneeze. Travelling through our hearts with light luggage. Still it adds to banks of emotional knowledge.   Sometimes we do not see a friend for ten years. We finally meet and we cannot believe our ears. The ode of our bond still sings in the heart. The flame in the chest knows time to outsmart.   Other times a friend forever disappears. Moves to a distant land or the death nears. Still the friend will visit us in dreams. The sights will be more real than it seems.   Take care, Helena Smole, author...

A bright moment not far Like a shooting star Bursting over the sky, Singing the heart’s lullaby.   Svetli trenutek kot zvezdni utrinek šine čez nebo. Pri srcu je toplo.   Eine helle Weile wie eine Sternschnuppe in Eile schnellt über den Himmel. Herzwärme für immer.   I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Želim vam vesel božič in srečno novo leto! Ich wünsche euch freue Weihnachten und ein glückliches neues Jahr!   Take care, Helena Smole, author of: – a fantasy novel with romance Vivvy and Izzy the Dwarf: A series about relationships –...

Youth, flamboyant with emotion. In love with the clouds and the sun. The twenties full of love motion. Choosing profession on the run. Making the most important life decisions At that frail age without experience. Needing space and parent’s provisions. Excitement seeming like the deliverance.   Flamboyant metaphors losing power. The heart singing modest melodies. In face of life’s middle in flower. Silently approaching the fifties. Listening to the music of our youth. Trying to find meaning in our results. As you can never feed the sweet tooth. You can also never at fifty do...