poem – Page 10

The Void

the bellowing wind
whipping up a storm outside
while we sit snugly
The Void sits by the saucer
another excuse for milk

the leaves of Autumn
to hover over the death
beautiful colours
picking the one that feels right
press a leaf between pages

Big Red Desert Waves
the rippling arid sand dunes
An ancient sunset

Within the darkness
you are enveloped inside
sticky Spring-drenched sheets
a fluffy weight on your chest
swiped by the paw of a bear

The waning fire smoulders
They gather in the distance
voices from another time

deep shapes move towards the fire
shapeshifting metamorphoses
gather strength outside the circle

waves of gooseflesh stir the spirit
light and drums beat in the distance
from the cursed forest cathedral

within the layers
unwrapping the cabbages
sea salt sparkling leaves

a warm sunny day
blowing a gale on and off
The flowers looked stunned
tree leaves become ruffled beards
feeling the miffed undertone

Carrying a spade and a bucket,
towards the clear, shallow pool.

A baby crab kicks up some sand,
and a fish, startled, tries to flee.

Her small hands are not unkind,
for she does not wish them harm.

Running around the crystal pool,
squealing and waving her spade.

An atmospheric shift.
Darkening clouds seem closer,
and that rain feeling.

Wrapped in a Raincoat.
Road smells and Petrichor perfume;
slowing down to listen.

Road puddles do form,
the child inside comes back to life;
free from adult cares.

Fairies and a forest live on the
walls of the reading book nook,
where imagination takes over.

She sits unencumbered by the
constraints of religion and ideas,
for the ancient ones know her.

Sitting surrounded by stories,
the nook comes alive in the rain,
and the painted forest is alive.