Recently I came across an old notebook of mine which I had used for doodles and creative writing. I had some poems in there that actually sounded pretty good, so I thought I’d post them here for people to read. They are free-form and don’t rhyme. Here they are, I hope you enjoy.
The sky, a strident grey, is filled with clouds
Making it clear for the first time.
The ravens are writing the words of destiny
Across the paper.
“Twelve o’clock and all is well!” cries the tower.
The darkest hour before the dawn.
The castle sleeps, slumbers and dreams,
As the imaginations of many strive to break free.
To break their chains of logic and reason.
They fly high, climbing to the heavens.
As the night prowls on,
The sleepers unconsciously rejoice
At the liberation of their spirits
In the starlit sky.
Brick by brick is a wall built.
Reaching, reaching towards the sky.
Who can break this prison?
For the key is within, not without.
Like a monk, a sole prisoner resides,
Awaiting the conclusion of his term,
Praying the end will never come.
The walls are made with mirrors and lye.
Who can enter through the narrow door?
For none shall pass, so it is decreed
Lest they reside there evermore.
A rain lashed windowpane,
waiting for the storm to subside.
Sometimes, things really are
just what they seem.
In silent solitude the soul sleeps
By a stream sliding past the stones.
The steep sides soiled with cold ice
Awaiting the fires of a new time.
The Clarity of Dawn
The sun is rising above the mountains.
Birds greet the new day.
The arrival of first light helps dispel
the dark fears of last night.
The breath of the sun melts the nightmares,
Making old memories out of fresh wounds.
The Coming of Dawn
The sun peeks into the valley.
That is all.
Just a small peek.
It steadies itself,
Takes a deep breath, and…
It spreads its light,
Like life-giving waves,
Through the land
And all rejoice.
We look for change.
Do we make it?
Or does it follow us?
Like a flower watches the sun?