Grass moves with the wind
Granting myself peace to dream
From the train window
Category: Uncategorized
Memories
the quiet path
waiting inside for forever
the car arrives
fabric moves around her
the old church
whispers on the breeze
their eyes link
intense waves of loving
they commit
serious words of promise
together now
scents of the garden
become memories
The Locket
A crystal locket,
found deep in the indigo
shrubs; so familiar.
Inside, a photo of a
woman who looks just like her.
The Neon Lights
Neon lights keep dancing all alone
as the winter silence settles in for a time.
Empty and forgotten items move
amongst the feelings of a vast wasteland.
Forgotten, empty, silent feelings of
isolation, longing, and unfinished plans.
The door to the pub swings open;
no one exits, for there are
only ghosts in this place.
Cardamon Swirl
Colours swirl
moving cloth
dancing flowers
blooming bright
sunshine light
sadness lost
moving streets
festival of light
Shorts Day
Once worn for freedom,
now they’ve shrunk in size, colour;
little shorts, freedom.
Imagining Sound
A room with a few.
Amber light slowly lightens
as the voices begin to sing.
Different notes and different voices
intermingle to create a unique sound.
Amber light is no more
as the voices sing the chorus.
A room with a few
seems to hold so many as we
imagine this unique sound.
Bohemia Ballad
Dirty cobblestone streets
dimly lit by Marxism-Leninism.
Blood runs through the cobblestones
pooling and lost between the cracks.
Dilapidated buildings of splendour,
a history long forgotten in obedience.
Books burnt long ago now never exist;
music played long ago now never heard.
Dancing and laughter cause suspicion,
breading horrific intelligentsia paranoia.
Broken instruments pile up on street corners,
and bright clothing is now just a false memory.
Dirty streets washed in creative blood,
staining the cobblestones with our love.
Copper Leaves
Copper leaves;
Only a few left now.
Autumn lost;
Winter found the Woods.
Deciduous trees stand;
Silent fog breathes still.
Copper leaves fall;
Trees now stand bare.

Winter Symphony
Compose the colours
of a winter symphony
to end a grey day
