An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Weak When Grey
I'm grey when weak. And weak bleeds grey. Shuffling green feet meet, Newly carrying me away As music births yellow Within my brain
Why do moths go to die in the darkest holes? In corners, in dust, I find their carcasses. In all the world And all its vastness,
A colourful dream
I close my eyes everything goes black Realising I'm going back To sleep a place full of colours bright A way that I can rest through the night
How do I show you I love you?
I feel a deep-seated pain in your roots. Do you call out for me? I feel your tears on my cheek. Are you calling me? I see your anguish in the skies above me. Is it me you are calling too? I see the damage I've done. How can I make it up to you?
A Part of the Puzzle
Each color is their own as Each person is their own Matching to the intrinsic Essence that is inherited within. ~ The color yellow cannot be described
I am Small
Im green because I’m small The blade of grass That whistles and sings with the wind And can scrape you if you’re not careful
A Pillow Book
(Inspired by The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon, one of Japan's earliest popular writers.) // Things That Still Frighten Me
Summertime comes round once a year When the sunshine should appear Filling everyone with happiness and cheer When all the flowers start to bloom
I am a canvas where a paint brush dances leaving me mottled in glittery gold whenever the sun and I exchange glances. No two brushstrokes alike I am told.
The Lavender buzzes and breathes its scent to the trees and passersby catch the breeze, sunrise glows worries flee For this moment 'I can breathe', beauty frees to pause, reflect, enjoy, and deflect the heavy stench of death.
A Rainbow History
I have settled on the colour that I like most, and it ended up being a sultry pale blue, with vivid references and fixed associations.
I ran into this tree at my brother’s wedding, I was so drunk. The bruise was funny green. The tree? She had a game sense of humor.