Her Tragedy

“I am a ghost,” she said,

“a shade that no-one sees,

I am a shimmer of the leaves

As the wind plys the trees.”

She wended ‘round the table,

And lighted on the chair,

And a ray of golden sunlight,

Caught a ringlet of her hair.

“Gazes pass right through me,

Never glimpsing who I am.

What they see is an empty soul,

Held upright by strings and hands.”

“And what do you see,” I asked,

“When in the mirror you do peer?”

Her hand reached to her ringlets,

Which she tucked behind her ear.

“I only see my outline,”

She hastily replied.

“I am a cutout made of cardboard.”

She closed her eyes and sighed.

But never did she ask

What I could really see;

Behind all her confusion,

And her missing sense of ‘me’.

She didn’t want to hear it,

From the ones who mattered most.

She would rather flit about,

Thinking that she was a ghost.

Sister's Hair Salon & Happy Friday. :)

Mother’s new sewing scissors caught the sisters’ eyes.

Instantly they thought of all the things that they could try.

An idea came about: “let’s play Sister’s Hair Salon!”

They both had lots of hair to experiment on!

Big sister took the shears and said “Okay, I’ll go first”

And into little sister’s curls, she was utterly immersed.

Snipping here and chopping there; locks fell to the floor.

She cut and trimmed and snipped and sheared until she could no more.

“All done!” big sister said with a great and happy smile.

“The cut looks good on you; it is totally your style!”

The mirror showed a hairstyle that wasn’t nice at all.

Her hair was shorn in choppy cuts and her bangs were really small.

Fighting back the tears, little sister turned around,

She reached for the scissors with a dark and threatening frown.

“Now it is my turn to cut,” she said with narrowed eyes.

“Well, I don’t want to play anymore,” big sister then replied.

“That’s not fair!” little sister cried, but big sister didn’t stay.

With flowing curls and perfect hair, big sister skipped away.

(This is a true story... we used to have hilarious photographic evidence... My eldest sister did this the middle sister).

Happy Thursday.



Happy Friday all (at least it's Friday for me). :)



The Desert

The torrent pummels the fissured earth

Which in turn, soaks it all away.

Electricity jags across the sky

Turning darkness into day.

This desert boasts no living things

It is a ravenous, famished beast

That swallows everything that ventures near

For an eternal and horrible feast.

The rain offers no respite here,

It helps no leaves to unfurl.

It creates no mighty rivers,

To abate the dusty swirl.

No wings dare ride its empty skies

No thirsty creatures track the soil.

The rain trickles through the desolation,

To where the cavern rivers roil.

The eternal raging river beneath,

Flows into a world unknown

Ending like a mirror in the blackness,

Reflecting nothing to no one.

Monday must die!

Monday, Monday; such drudgery;
Gobbling up the peace that Sunday brings.
Squashing all of our Saturday fun,
Bringing us work that must be done.

Monday, Monday, we dislike you so,
With the four long days that follow, so slow.
The weekend seems but a distant shore
And we are rowing with just one tiny oar.

Monday, Monday, just disappear,
Nobody really wants you here.
You reek of rote and responsibility,
When sleeping in, we’d rather be.

Monday, Monday, you really suck.
We tolerate you, to earn a buck.
If you were ever to draw human breath,
Everyone would demand your death.

Mondaycide…

The only acceptable murder.

::nodding ominously::

Powerless

I followed the trail to where the sky meets the earth
I found the falls where the rivers end.
I stood at the crumbling edge of the world
And watched pieces of my world descend.

I climbed to the summit where the earth meets the sky,
I found the ice where the rivers are born.
I stood at the craggy top of the world,
High above the swirling storms.

I wander the paths of the forests once more,
Which were revived by the nourishing rain.
The roots of the trees are clutching the soil,
Keeping everything from crumbling away.

My Place.

Time is licking at my toes
Like the tide that’s rolling in.
Still, I know not where to go,
Or where I should begin.

But the depths of my mind,
can show me where I want to be.
But the clarity is blurred
by the things I cannot see.

I’ve seen the rise and fall
Of an empire or two.
I’ve met and lost nearly all
Of the friends that I once knew.

I’ve watch convenience spread
Like an unstoppable disease.
A plague that binds us all
With a terrifying ease.

But still through the years
I cannot find my place.
Except to cry the tears
of my oblivious race.

I Am Rain.

This just came over me about twenty minutes ago while getting ready to head home.
So I scanned it and posted it here.