Gone – 12/7/17

Pickling the foggy air, the sunshine cures the swirling fish fogged tails.
See there’s a drab brown bird flying away,
Dragging the day with a rope.
 – zu
Todays weather report, brought to you by: A Drab Brown Bird. 

Softly Comes the Light – 16/2/17

I am glad this morning when I do not have to get up ridiculously early to catch a train to Sydney.
My mouth hates the taste of toothpaste and early mornings.
My eyes rebel against replacing the sun with artificial lights so early.

I like the way the sun gives us time to say goodbye to the darkness,
colouring the edges with orange and the middle with shadowed blue.

-zu

Soft green wind. – 6/7/17

My cat is a dark shadow on the floor,

With a padding tail,

The wind is blowing soft green,

In the darkness outside, and tiptoeing in through my window,

Brushing over the top of the empty bottle on the table,

And sounding it like a teacup foghorn.

-zu

Grey bird (moments like this) – 10/12/16

Grey morning,

Grey bird,

Splashing in the gutter,

Making the grey reflection,

Into ripples.

-zu

Just a small poem, small happenings, hope it brings a smile 😊

No. 231 “butterflies” 15/9/16

This world is bouncing, I’m sure. It’s hurling through space,

This caterpillar will turn into a butterfly, and give chase.

-zu

Thank you for your support, even on short poem days 😊

Daily Poem, No. 120 “Lightning” – 13/3/16 (Also, Summer or Winter? Tell me!)

My mum was struck by lightning but I was never scared of storms,

Although everybody seems to love the breeze that summer warms.

I always had a dream, that I would learn to fly,

With thunder above my shoulder and lightning in the sky.

I beg the storm to take me up into the gold and grey,

The wind sings to me so sweetly, till I start to turn away.

I shall walk home through the olive groves and weep, for I’m down here,

While above thunder and lightning dance, there’s not a chance that they can hear.

-zu

Fun fact: my mum really was struck by lightning! Indirectly of course, which is why she survived, with a pretty cool story!  

Also, summer or winter? In this poem I seem to be leaning towards winter but in actuality I love summer best. Which are you?