The View from Here
Poles that seem to reach for the clouds, of all
shapes and sizes, merrily dancing
along a gracious sea of blue.
The flowers shower the garden, with
an explosion of colour, like a rainbow
once the rain has fallen....
Shall We Climb?
Shall we climb my lovely, shall we climb?
Let me take your hand;
And lead you away from the World below.
Shall we follow the path as it leads us on new adventures?
And listen to the native tongue of the babbling brook,
That speaks as we walk by....
Bony arms reach towards clouds that sail across
a sea of pure blue. New life bursts forth, an array of greens.
Small branches sigh, as they bow their heads,
Towards the babbling water, that speaks
in foreign tongues, twisting and turning, a forever
wanderer, on a path carved out
over thousands of years. The petrichor scent, holding
my nostrils captive....
mingle into a high pitched
crescendo. Eyes bulging
In the sockets, hands to
Words in monotone, no
understanding. Fire burning
inside, Smoke invades my nostrils and
eyes. Salty tears fall, as
I fight this war within my head....
Don't Look Down On Me
You throw your ideas from a loose hand,
And let them drift down slowly in a random fall,
Trying to bombard my already muddled brain,
And make me come round to your way of thinking.
The noise in my head unbearable, you see my weakness
And press your ideas further, this time thrown with more force.
I fall to my knees under the weight,
That bestows themselves, upon my shoulders, like winter leaves....