An Anthology of Poems

White flakes of soft cotton balls
falling, but taking its time
Sublime, swaying on its way

Defining the cold winter night.

An artist’s wait is over

dusted canvas out again

Here comes colour
Splatter and splash.

A player of words she is

gather spells on blank sheets

her pen, a secret arsenal

ageless like a symphony.

The white flakes continue to fall

a white blanket hover the dusted town

million activities on halt again

staying warm within the walls.

Swing in triumph, howl in air

Countless words will fall in verse

ready to be sung

through the cold winter night.

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A mountain

I’ve become one

or I’ve made one of me

I lack motion

I could burst into flame.

At a crossroad

I’ve come

it was inevitable, it was only time

I look left and right

ponder over paths before me.

A dormant dream

Waking up from long slumber

each cell packed with energy

Jab my arms in the air

Thump my feet into the ground.

Fly high into an open space

dive deeper underground

sway to the breeze

rise, rise from deep slumber

burn, burn into red fire

move, groove from stillness.

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