Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

Time

The clock turns back

as its friend in the other room is slow.

Panic ensues as I see the slow clock

but when I leave the room

and see the correct time

I can let out a sigh of relief.

 

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Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

After the Storm

Cool yellow light shines through the window,

droplets of rain still on the glass.

The sun is shining for the first time

in hours. After a storm loudly arrived

and left the world below soaked and scared.

But now the cool yellow light

shines through the window

illuminating everything in a warm glow

causing the fear to dissipate

and joy to take its hold.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

Forbidden Words

Ever notice

how

there are words forbidden

by society,

which can only be mumbled or thought

without any reactions of shock or disgust

at all?

Yet there are other

words forbidden

by no one but yourself

that you can say aloud

without reactions from others,

but inside you shiver

at the singular meanings

they hold

to no one

 

but

 

you.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

Climax

When the story is yet unfinished

but an ending becomes apparent,

danger arrives swiftly

to bring the heroes down.

Yet as always they learn

before it’s too late

about cruel machinations

that will bring about their downfall,

and the heroes jump back into action

to defeat the villains of the story,

or at least

that is what happens in fiction.

In the real world

it’s rarely that easy

anymore.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

The Boat in the Forest

A boat sits alone in the woods.

It has been abandoned for quite some time

becoming a home for many small animals.

Once it carried people up and down the river

but once that was no longer necessary

it was left there and forgotten

and now the old rusted boat

is being claimed by the forest.

A singular birch tree grows

through its brittle hull.

Grasses and flowers cover

everything else.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

The Whisperer

A whisper drifts across the morning breeze

and no one takes notice

except for one person who follows the whisper

until they reach it source.

She is a curious child,

wanting to learn everything about the world.

When she find the source

she finds a litter of puppies.

There is no sign of the mother,

nor of anyone else who may have whispered.

She carries the puppies back to her house

and gives them all good homes.