Butterfly 🦋

 Create with your HEART and SWORD A visual-poetic meditation by Pia Hjorth 🎨 Image Description A watercolor painting of a female warrior with auburn hair, bowed in reverence. Her sword rests quietly in hand, and a glowing heart radiates from her chest. The background swirls with blues, reds, and golds — a storm of emotion and light. ✍️ Poem ⚔️ I Will Fight for You, My Lord Inspired by Psalm 44 | by Pia Hjorth I will fight for You, My Lord Almighty — not with sword, not with bow, but with trust and trembling praise.I do not boast in my strength. I do not lean on my weapons. I lean on You — even when You feel far.Every day, I praise You. Even now, when shame covers me like dust, and enemies laugh.You have broken us in pieces. You have left us for wild dogs to eat. You have covered us with the darkness of death.But still — I cry out. Wake up, Lord! Do not turn away forever. Do not forget our pain. Do not leave us in silence.Save us, not because we are worthy, but because You are fait...

💖 Loved To Be Seen (Refined Romantic Poem Version) There are moments when love isn’t loud—   it’s quiet, tender, and deeply felt.   This poem is for those who long   to be truly seen. Had I been seen—not watched, but known,   a heart unveiled, no mask, alone.   To love is not to simply gaze,   but to feel the soul in subtle ways. Your eyes, a mirror to my ache,   each glance a promise you won’t break.   Not just a look, but love’s embrace—   a quiet vow, a sacred space. To be seen is to be kissed,   by truth, by warmth, by all I’ve missed.   No need to speak, no need to flee—   just you, just love, just destiny. Written with a heart wide open — Pia 🦋

I’d love to be loved.  Had be seen a watch Tower.  Love to has be seen

       🌹 Paper Petals’’ By Pia Hjorth. 6/8  2025 I tried to press a rose between two pages of goodbye. But it bled through the lines and stained every memory. I touched the outline where the petals used to sleep— fragile folds of loss now folded into silence.

 --- 🧁 Grandma, I Wish You Were Here She lays the coffee table for six, With lace so fine and quiet tricks. Strawberry cake in slices wide, Lemonade cups lined side by side. She walks with grace through summer air, Her crown of beauty—silver hair. The scent of home is in her hands, And love flows soft like garden strands. The chairs all wait, the laughter hums, But now the silence softly comes. I close my eyes and see her near— Oh Grandma… I wish you were here 

 The Silence Between Apples by Pia Hjorth  They fell like promises — soft and round, Now bruised and broken on the ground. Once ripe with laughter, sweet with grace, Now fading slow in time’s embrace. The orchard hums a hollow tune, Where we once danced beneath the moon. The grass remembers every kiss, But love forgets — it’s come to this. No hands to gather what’s been lost, No voice to mourn the silent cost. Just apples rotting in the shade, Where once our hearts were gently laid. The silence speaks in skins turned brown, In fruit too tired to wear its crown. Love was here — I saw it bloom, Now it sleeps beneath the gloom.