Dark clouds mean Rain is going to come BOOM, BOOM, BOOM At your window Hard rain Soft rain Hurricane When I walk outside There is a surprise Puddles here Puddles there Puddles, puddles Everywhere
Poem
Birds
Birds are wonderful They make life better They sing and bring us joy They are so sweet With a little tweet, tweet They fly up high In the sky
One Day Old
What a wonderful time of year it is, winter. Snow fills the air, soft and cold Tumbling down white dunes, forever bold Standing atop it, I seem never to shiver Technically I was born a day ago, Made by children with smiles that glowed Alas I cannot play with them, for I have no legs Only a wool scarf set round my neck During the day, the children keep me company Striking up one-sided conversations, or offering me tea But at night the stars are my friends Shining down and making my eyes look like one of them Then my kin come dancing down, Swirling and twirling around And I know I am home And only one day old
A Quiet Neighborhood
A quiet neighborhood seemed empty, yet it was the fullest it could be. Even if ones weren’t out, they were enjoying peace and love with their friends and family. Even if the outside seemed empty it was very full. Animals like birds and squirrels skittered and flew with a cool breeze that surrounded, thriving in a promising nature-full environment. Peace fluttered place to place, filling everywhere with itself. Even if it was so full, so full, never yet to be completely full. A quiet neighborhood would always welcome more to be in such a wonderful place, such a wonderful place. Such a wonderful place ain’t need anything but wonderful creatures. Nothing ain’t not wonderful if it just cherishes life. Such a wonderful place needn’t be a quiet neighborhood. Such wonderful creatures needn’t be people and birds and squirrels. A loud neighborhood, maybe, but maybe a forest, a meadow, a city without harm. a desert, even, a humble rural, any place could fit the wonderful atmosphere of beautiful nature. A Moment of Peacefulness A gorilla, haha, a dog, a cat, a horse, or maybe even a snake— everything is beautiful in any possible way. Sometimes people just misread the eyes of some creature, but all are equal in a beautiful world, and some places, like a quiet neighborhood, some creatures, like a seemingly scary spider, can have just as much peace and love without fear and with courage, without needing to shrink back into the shadows, but with strength, kindness, bravery, darkness to light and a heart to a small world like so, in just a humble place, in just a wonderful place, with just wonderful creatures and everything that life could give which could be found in such an ordinary, fanciless place—but with peace and love.
Are We Doing Enough?
Beautiful maple trees. Little flowers brush against my knees. The sun is shining bright as an LED light, And fluffy clouds are in sight. My raven-black hair billows in the wind, The strands of hair tickling my chin. As I stand there, I notice the rough trees And shiny green leaves. But I also spot Big aluminum cans And plastic bags. As I stand motionless, I wonder, Are we doing enough to show the Earth our love?
Armor
Acting silly, having fun, Being someone I’m truly not. The sun is saying goodbye, The sky is putting on a show— Daffodil yellow, sky blue, And pink the shade of flamingo feathers. I exit the house, My shield slowly melting away, My permanent smile turning into a straight line, My benevolent demeanor changing. Away from people, I put down my armor. Becoming someone People never see.
The Smell of Spring
As I peered out the window, the indigo sky, the snow on the ground that fell long ago, surrounded by white, no hint of sunlight, I sighed as I looked and climbed into bed, I woke in the morning, feeling fresh and well fed, I opened the window, and to my surprise, something was different, I could not tell why. Taking a sniff of the cold winter air, I felt a warm little breeze, full of summer and bees, fly through my window, and all through my house, the smell of spring, the flowers will sing, the rain will fall, the ants will crawl, the sun will rise, winter will say goodbye, goodbye, the birds will fly, and I rely on spring to come.
Abstract
Nothing to do Just me and you Everyone is through Just me and you Down is light Day is dark Night is right One + one Is half a ton
Dream
“Let me sleep” I say “I’m in the clouds Today” “Let me rest” I state “I’m in the grass It’s great” “If I wake Who knows When I will see More snow?”
Memory Stew
My brain is a stew When I need something It is at the bottom When I don’t It is at the top Sometimes it is in the middle Through a struggle Able to be scooped up
Timepiece
Timepiece. Tick tock Tick tock Back and forth On and on On and on On and on Every day, same thing, Why? What folly came over man to make me? I do not know. Standing alone now. Quiet. Telling but not speaking. Why?
Them
They are someone no one. They died and lived, struggled and knew, under the sky, our sky. But nobody sees them, and they see us and stand beneath our trees. But nobody sees them, and their vision and life fades, and they stand upon our soil. But nobody sees them, and they no longer see us. And they fade without being seen.
