Windmill
Windmill are you still afraid of the winds?
Wind is blowing still
Red wood green grass, holding soul -
Waiting for the noon.
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More stories from Rosie J. Sargent and writers in Poets and other communities.
Mr Prime Minister
Mr Prime Minster, how can you sleep, when the old are cold and children can't eat? Did your party really do their best, or was it the plan all along to ruin the NHS? Where's the money from Brexit is it spent? While nurses work double shifts but can't pay their rent. Waves of spikes have caused ripples of strikes, so don't get ill, because there's no point calling 999. The beds are full the train lines shut, how many more times will we say enough is enough? Brags about profits, but doesn't cough up, slash the funding and call it cuts.
By Rosie J. Sargent3 years ago in Poets
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Welcome to our first Winners Announcement of the year and to the final challenge in the Fall Poetry Series. The Last Flame invited writers to sit with endings, using fire as a central image to consider what remains when something burns out: ash, warmth, memory, silence, or the faint promise of what comes next. The strongest pieces treated endings as gradual rather than sudden, allowing them to flicker, dim, and linger.
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Comments (3)
Love the imagery from these words. Beautiful. Hearted and subscribed
Lovely imagery in this one, very nicely done :)
Gorgeous! Super love this :)