Today like yesterday, I shiver as I sit alone sipping herbal tea. Warming weary bones from a dream that lingers as cobwebs.
The floor creaks from behind sending shivers to gnaw on raw nerve-ends, porcelain knuckles prickle as I grip the chair arm.
I wait only to hear the release of my breath. As a child my vivid imagination blessed me, now it seems to be my curse!
Creeeeeeeeeek!!!
Spring to my feet, fist bound, whirlwind eyes sear swords. Had my dream come in day to haunt its prey? My sixth sense reels,
frantic I freeze and my mind screams. Fear electrifies the air to a burnt crisp. Silently I whisper underneath my breath, oh my God is this real? Then nothing, utter silence.
With a sigh of foolish relief I crumb into my chair only to hear the clock chime four. “Four”? With eyes of dismay I peer to the door. Deciding as I sip cold tea
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
Trixie :)
This has a great dark tone, and
your descriptions of the fear
and the atmosphere are right on!
I was right there with you!
Hugs,
Maria