Amelia_v

The wind blew,

Strong gusts of sand,

Over the rocks and waves,

Past the shops on the boardwalk,

Past the lifeguards in their fancy gear,

Past my head,

Trying to take me with it.

So I run,

Huge worlds in tiny pages.
Lives lived and lost,
All in those pages.
A whole place,
To make you forget your own.


 

Enchanting woods,
Are calling me,
Begging me to come home.
Where their green darkness engulfs me.
Where my worries float away,
On all the birds wings.
And their songs bring peace,
In this troubled time.
 

She is a goddess straight from your wildest dreams,
With a halo of wild curls and bright, bright eyes.
Her skin glows,
As if lit from the inside out.
Her hands are slender,
Always making art.
Her laugh is not a tinkling bell.

Happiness is fickle. 

It flits and flies away.

There in a grin,

And gone in a tear.

I write my poems before bed.
When the sun is going down, 
And the world is still.
When I have all the time in the world to think,
Because the day's chores are done.
I can sit and sort through