Bubble The bubble reflectsmy dream so perfectlyit could be made of glass.Perhaps it is made of glassas the sharp leaves don’t break it.it just rests there,waiting. Birdsong I close my eyesand listento the birds.I can’t name them,but I can still … Continue reading
The Last Bouquet I’d always loved flowersand you surrounded me with them.Those numerous bouquetswould bring me joy,you said. And nowthe heart of meis filled with your flowers,so many flowers scenting my face,engulfing me in a multi coloured gloryof fragile petals. … Continue reading
Unorganised One day I’ll manage toget my ducks in a rowsort it all outstop procrastinating,stop the coffee calling,stop the sunlightcasting shadowswhich distract meand tempt me outdoorsto see the ducksswimmingsmoothlysendingsopheristic shadowsacross the water.And as I watchthose shadows movein effortless formationnegating the … Continue reading
Bejewelled This little piece of goldwill not be enoughto feed the fruitof my swelling belly. And it will take bigger scalesto weigh out the quantitieswe will need to survive. But I still have jewels to selland I think they will … Continue reading
Describe your journey towards becoming a poet. I wrote my first poem during recess, in first grade, with several classmates of mine. It was entitled “Poor Little Grass Seed” and mourned the fact that grass dies in the winter. I … Continue reading