The edge of a cliff

Poetry is the world beyond the edge of a cliff. There is a little man standing on the edge of this cliff. He isn’t really a little man, only in comparison to the cliff. But he is standing on the edge of the cliff where everything stops. All the everyday rules that we subconsciously follow,…

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Dream Catcher – A poem

I wish to be a dream catcher And float among The glittering stars, When our homes are draped In a veil of darkness, While tired eyes close But minds are still alive With hopes And dreams And wishes. I yearn to watch The magic of dancing minds In the dark, And collect it like stardust,…

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What poetry is to me

Poetry is Sifting through a haystack To find the tiny glint of A shiny needle (hidden to all except those who look hard enough) And sewing words together With a burning desire To make sense of the world, And my heart And the adventures we have upon it. It is a way to say What…

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A Change of Seasons – A poem

Where once she was a bare tree With nothing but a few falling leaves In the coldest of Winters. With grey clouds looming above And not even a glimpse of blue, The rain poured, Hail pattered And lightning struck. Floods leaving nothing but Destruction in its path. She shivered by a fire That refused to…

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Waiting – A poem

Time tapping its toes on the doorstep Ticking slowly Like you’ve just jumped into water. Words running circles in your head Waiting to be let out the gate. Stars that can’t shine bright enough Because they are waiting For the lights to go out below. Waiting to be seen. Waiting For fruit to ripen, For…

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Waves – A poem

I do not want To be the river Calm, and Controlled by the wind. You are the wind That makes me feel beautiful As I bubble, And ripple, And flow. But I want to be the wind And the river To create my own beauty. And I want to create Not bubbles, Not ripples, But…

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