Hello, my friends!

I’ve been collecting some poems in a draft for a while now, and today I thought it’s about time to share them. 😉 I quite enjoy writing poems, and I’m so glad that you guys have enjoyed reading them so far! Hopefully that trend shall continue. 😛

Ahem, shall we begin?

moon hammock

the moon through

bare black branches

becomes a lacy hammock,

spun with delicate glowing threads,

and suspended from stars.

cradled inside,

the man in the moon

watches the people below

hurrying and worrying

about their day,

and smiles softly.

for he knows how big a problem is

in a universe

millions and millions of miles wide.

he looks at the stars and knows –

not big at all.

 

home

we’re back again,

back to our memory foam house

that remembers how we sat

and laid our heads

and walked the floors

and made the beds.

it welcomes us back again,

back into the old nooks and

comfortable crannies.

we slip back into

the familiar grooves,

take our old places

in hearts and homes,

and smile the smile of

back again.

we were trying to carve out

new places for ourselves,

new dips in new pillows,

new ruts in new roads,

new places in new hearts,

but carving is hard work,

you know.

so for now we snap

back into place

like a seven-piece puzzle,

and breathe a sigh of relief.

we’re home again.

 

wildflower

they called her

brown-eyed Susan.

she was a wildflower,

her beauty fresh and pure

as sun rays and raindrops, with

wind-blown hair

and dewdrop eyes,

poppy petal lips

and a bright daisy smile.

she lit up her meadow

and spread her heart wide.

but wildflowers stay

only for a season

and then they

…

f a  d   e      a    w     a      y.

 

first world problems

this page won’t load,

the internet is slow,

and my tv only covers half the wall.

they’re out of organic,

i ate too much,

and i had to make that crust from scratch.

my purse must weigh ten pounds in coins,

they only take cash,

but no one has change for a $100 bill.

i have nothing to do but sleep,

but there’s not enough time in the day,

and i need to get away from all this stress.

maybe i’ll go to africa.

 

roses

once i wandered through

an old abandoned house

whose bones had broken long ago.

and in the cellar,

hanging in the dark,

i found roses.

they were tied to the ancient rafters

with brittle, yellowed thread,

fragrant with the soft, crumbling scent

of nostalgia.

i touched a faded petal and wondered

how something so old and fragile

could still be beautiful.

and i wished

to grow older

with all the grace of

dying roses.

the voiceless

we are the voiceless;

hear our silent cry.

our eyes have never opened,

our ears have never heard,

our lips have never spoken,

but if we could, we would say…

why do the ones who gave us life,

bring us death?

what have we done

that we should die?

_

people say,

the color of your skin

doesn’t matter –

it is who you are inside.

but does your size matter?

if your heart is too small,

perhaps it does not matter

what it holds,

if it will never get a chance

to tell.

_

we are the voiceless;

hear our silent cry:

we are innocent.

you cannot prove us guilty,

but we still die –

helpless.

hopeless.

voiceless.

**********

*sniff* Why is it so satisfying to write sad poems? :’) What do you think – do you like writing sad or happy poems/stories best? Which do you like reading best? Regardless, I hope you enjoyed these and I’d love to know which poem was your favorite!

Also, before you go, could I ask a favor of you? I have sooo many post ideas and not enough time (and data XD) to post them, so would you help me choose which ones to post first?

 

Thank you so much for your feedback, dear readers. ♥ Have a simply lovely day. 🙂

***Allison***