The Sandman comes home
Darkness cloaks the girl watching
Birds chase the sunset
Escaping a tired world
Tomorrow will start again
Tag: poem
Undecided. It’s too hot.
Fingers dance on keys
Letters burn porcelain skin
Like hopping hot potatoes
Summer cooks short poets
The battle of tanka’s, stop.
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There is Hope
The sky cries white tears
Skadi umbrellas the land
The forest freezes
Time will melt away her scars
Idun’s song is whispering.
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Loss
Light falls behind clouds
A daughter hugs her mother
Spring will come again.
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Goodbye, Uncle
We got the word on Christmas morn,
And they told us you were gone.
Asleep, at peace, with the angels
The Silent Night, your Swan Song.
So, rest your weary head, dear uncle
your work on earth is complete.
“God is good”, you used to tell us
Now you’re sitting at his feet.
Sitting in the kitchen corner
With your cigarette and smiles.
“Oh, My” and “Exaa-ctly”
we would laugh with you awhile.
I’ll remember your red jumper
And the coat that was too big.
I’ll remember your brilliant mind,
And playful mischief with us kids.
I remember the last gift you gave
Was a box of “Indian Sweets”
We all gasped, and gave you “the look”
But were grateful for the treat.
Rest easy now, dearest uncle
Your light shines on us from above
No words can describe our sadness
Always and forever, sending our love.
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Tinsel In The Sunshine
Little red hats, singlets and shorts
Walking in thongs along the port.
Standing together in candlelight
Caroling with friends into the night.
Raising a glass and spreading cheer
Fingers cling to ice cold beers.
Shrimp skewers sizzle on the grill
Accompanied by sautéed krill.
Southern climes can be a lot to bear
When gathering for an English fare.
Hot roast turkey with all the trimmings
Some veg but lots of stuffing.
Feeling the heat inside and out
That’s what our Christmas is all about.
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A sestina poem about vampires… or at least a poorly constructed first attempt!
In the forest, beneath the tree’s shadow
A lost young girl snuggles into the dark
Embracing the cold she pulls her cloak on
Hypnotized by the tall handsome vampire
His hungry eyes lingering at the mark
burnt onto her skin when she met her doom.
Many nights have passed since he met his doom
His twisted wicked past leaves a shadow.
Etched into his soul, an eternal mark,
A reminder of days before the dark.
A child of the night he is a vampire
He doesn’t sleep, he is always turned on.
There is no blame, no one to put it on.
The morning light will always be their doom.
Blood bonds them, united as vampires
Roaming the night, living in the shadow
Guided by the moon, dancing in the dark
Children of the night, evil has left its mark.
Time has a habit of growing that mark
The moonlight is all they can depend on
Paving their fate as creatures of the dark
Haunted by the memories of their doom
Their mortal selves dead in the shadows
Their souls succumb to the kings of vampires.
Lessons are learnt from her master vampire
She ventures through the night to make her mark
performing her dance in the forest shadow
with only her charm and wits to rely on
she brings the next mortal to their doom
as eternal beings of the shadows.
A mark is left when we fall to the dark
Our inner vampire takes nightmares to build on
Here we meet our doom and succumb to the shadows.
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Forgotten
One grey day on the Metro line
I looked upon an old past time.
Sitting in the middle of yesterday
a carousel that cannot play.
Bracing itself through the pouring rain
the tired horses show their pain.
Eroded down to their very core
their porcelain skins are no more.
Coarse are their once pristine petals
destined for a sea of metal.
Charlie Ann Alford 