October 19, 2007
Wait there
for the moon-silver landscape.
Wait there
as it pulls all shadows east.
Wait there
as the night floods with crimson.
Wait there
as the leaves sweep the streets.
Ruin
…this heart is closed…
October 19, 2007
Wait there
for the moon-silver landscape.
Wait there
as it pulls all shadows east.
Wait there
as the night floods with crimson.
Wait there
as the leaves sweep the streets.
November 1, 2007 at 12:10 am
This is another beauty - (but then I would say that, given my belief that short is sweet in poetry, wouldn’t I?)No, seriously, I think it is.
I hope you don’t mind a change of tone - I don’t quite know where to post stuff like this: Ever since ‘I think that if I was a gerbil… I’ve had this form running round in my head. I must have written half a dozen in my head, more or less finished or not or OK or not, but I think I have to lay an egg now, finally, as the hen said, so here goes;
I think that if I was a snake
I’d have a slippery name like sJake.
I’d slide and slither safe and sound
I wouldn’t f…, I’d s… around!