NaPoWriMo 2017 8/30 – Tea Cup

There’s a teacup under my bed.

I bought it on a damp high street,
when the days smiled
and our light repelled
oncoming clouds.

You said I was weird.

So when summer ribbons
were moth-eaten
and flowers faded away,
that little teacup stayed.

It watched from the basket,
when lovely red sandles
were discarded,
onto your thick head.

And the purple pen you gave me,
the ink had run
dead.

I love that little teacup,
that sleeps under my bed.

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NaPoWriMo 2017 7/30

Thirteen Reasons why Today didn’t suck.

One
Autumn night, well played
A fresh to start the day.
Two
Waking up to the big blue,
is an Aussie’s Paradise.
Three
Ding Ding, the café bell
Madam Rosa knows me well.
Four
Coffee beans and toasted bacon,
Taste buds have awoken.
Five
City heels find their strut
music on, iPhone plugged.
Six
Happy chaos on the street,
nods to those we meet.
Seven
Chocolate Orange Mocha
meant good vibrations at the lockers.
Eight
Smiles and conversations,
we found our destination.
Nine
“Here’s your boost juice, babe”
My favourite mint and kale.
Ten
A Southern Cross hottie,
smiles and winks at me.
Eleven
My phone constantly glows,
with plans for April tomorrows.
Twelve
Office sing a long,
we know our working song.
Thirteen
Home to a branded Charlie
inspiring another story.

NapoWriMo 2017 5/30 – Who is he?

He comes to the world on an English stage,
His words branded into all the children.
His thoughts flicker through every writes page,
a wise master to all men and women.

He travelled from Europe to the Middle East,
from London to the streets of Verona.
He twisted truth like a romantic beast,
and even got laughed out of Vienna.

But his life was the truest tragedy,
falling to death after a merry drink.
To this day, we can’t spell his name properly
because he would scribble whatever he thinks.

Do you know the man who I speak of?
Have a moment, this was a labour of love.

NaPoWriMo 2017 4/30 Elegy

Branded in my memory – those headlines.
“Everybody’s going to war”, she said
in big bold irrefutable lines 
caterwauling across the world: “you’re dead”.
I remember summer, so exciting
hanging together in our township, there
used to be laughter at sudden lightening
we were innocence at the village faire.
But despite the darkness that lingers here
you’re flickering in the deepest shadow
and where there is light, there is hope my dear
inspiring a better tomorrow.

NaPoWriMo 2017 2/30 

A little girl waits in an oak tree

like a pearl from the deepest sea.

She hears her call,

a bold buzzing,

drumming thoughts

a white noise humming.

The little deer through the years

riding through her fiery fears

she fought and sought

with all her might

dodging judgy worldly lights.

Battles won – she can count a few,

the mountain peak, it’s not far from view.

Yesterday’s fountain has run dry

the truth, bellows a Banshee cry

they cannot run. they cannot hide,

for all unjust will certainly die.

The little girl laughs from her tree,

the ones before whisper in the breeze.