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Vânia Santos, 35 years old, is participating in the 6th International Literary Creation Competition, from Santo  André, Portugal. We are grateful for the participation and wish her success.

The Whisper of Dreams 

Dreams are rivers, winding deep, 
A bridge to realms where skies unfold, 
Softly through our sleep,
With hues of wonder, pure as gold. 

Dreams are fragile, spun like lace, 
Yet in their light, we find our spark, 
A fleeting glimpse, a fleeting grace,
A beacon shining through the dark.

Dreams are maps with paths unknown,
They lead to cliffs, to peaks untamed,
Journeys that we walk alone,
To joy unspoken, to fears unnamed. 

And when the world feels cold and bare, 
Chase dreams boldly, let them ignite, 
Dreams are the warmth that lingers there,
dreams are stars and you are the night!


The Moon’s Embrace

The moon ascends, a quiet guide, 
It bathes the earth in gentle light, 
A silver glow the night can’t hide,
A steadfast friend to endless night. 

It pulls the tides, it lights the way, 
A gentle glow, a devoted guide, 
It whispers words the stars can’t say,
Forever watching, by our side. 

It whispers tales of time long past, 
A mirror hung in heaven’s dome, 
Dreams that flicker but always last,
It lights the path when we’re alone. 

Moon, you shine where darkness falls,
You hold the heavens, calm and true,
A beacon bright, the night’s own call,
A silent wonder, ever new. 


The Memories

Like photographs that never die,
Saved memories, both soft and bright, 
In the corners of my mind they lie, 
A thousand stories locked in light. 

The moments once so bright, now shade,
When quiet, I always find,
Faces blurred, and voices faded, 
The fragments left behind my mind. 

I wonder now, as time moves on, 
Which memories will stay to guide?
What parts of me are still so strong? 
And which will fade, just like the tide? 

Memories, like footprints in the sand, 
A map of moments, lost in time, 
Fading slowly, yet they stand, 
Each step, a verse, a silent rhyme.