Free Verse
My Dream Holiday
My Dream Holiday The view from the sky was amazing, as we were landing. my world suddenly turned good expanding. You held my hand like my mum used to do reassuring me all was well I got a card for my uncle tom hope he is better soon. Look at me in the sky with the stars and the moon. Astronomy was always interesting in school. I was a fool crushing in on my teacher. Like the feeling of being on the waltzer at the fair, leaning as we spun round and round. the holiday begins in ten minutes as we land. Once a Robin landed on my washing line, one red breast. Got my sun cream and best towel for the sand. He held my hand tighter as we landed while I closed my eyes oh god did I close the window in the porch? Lots of mail will pile up it will be all junk. Well not that much in a week. The lights looked great from the sky, it looks like Christmas I said down there. He just smiled. Touch down, and wow I am in Spain. He rubbed his hand, did I cause that pain? Hard to believe he was a stranger in a seat when I got on. Bye he said hope you enjoy the holiday he quickly made for the exit. I woke up wow what a dream so it was just a dream no need for sun cream funny how the mind can wonder to anywhere, and beyond there. Who was the guy who held my hand where is my holiday now? the sea the sand.
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
THE PEN OF A READY WRITER
What beauty springs forth, When the pen meets its master; The writer, The scribblings of meaningless words, Joined together to make a meaningful masterpiece, Inspired or uninspired, The writer must always be ready, The seal of the promise his guide, Or perhaps a model or mentor, Whatever it may be, It surely is of God; his greatest motivation, His beauty and splendour expressed, Ever so greatly in all creation, The greatest inspiration to the ready writer, His hands are made ready, Even as his mind is opened up, To the endless possibilities that are welled up inside him, He pens down all these possibilities; words they may be When his mind can no longer hold them in, It could take him a minute, or probably an hour But the finished work, how grand and beautiful, Oh how great are the works of the ready writer!
By Maud Agyemang-Gyau about a year ago in Poets
Echoes of Vulnerability
In the quiet corners of my heart, I find the fragile pieces, The ones I hide from the world, Afraid they might break me. But in the sharing of my weakness, I discover a strength unknown, A bond forged in vulnerability, A connection that heals.
By Tracy Toccaraabout a year ago in Poets
