Poetry | Stories | Photography
A quiet carriage,
thoughts of being alone.
The tension remains
as the passenger fidgets.
Headphones separate us,
yet there is no escape.
Living in a prison of sorts
wishing for the platform to arrive.
Why must every window be viewed
when it’s so dark outside?
Nothing left to lose,
except for memories of
love and Petrichor.
Spring has come to your heart, yet I sit here in my Winter world wondering what you’re doing with all of those so-called “friends“.
I love you, yet you are like a Hydrangea in bloom. Your love will last from early spring until late Autumn, yet it never sustains the Winter.
Humble soft padding.
Hurt, a wolf in sheep’s clothing;
misunderstood wolf.
Waiting for the microwave to finish,
lunch will end soon,
watching the time tick the day away,
dinner will start soon,
wishing for something to start,
hoping for something to end.
You began, then you end,
I begin, then I will end;
we will all begin and end.
Our hearts are locked in
quarantine as we learn to
live without our love.
Clouds of fresh grey days
A heated house feels too hot
Rain music playing
A quizzical glance,
ivory bosomed virgin’s perfume excites
the virile knave dressed as a knight.
Walking to forget
the way skin felt like the sun.
Mornings without her.
Where others don’t go,
she stays for the lonely ones
who need her kindness.
Whispers of a witch in the
woods create stories and legends.
Whispers are only empty
words for a warm heart to forget.
C & K 