Archive for Writing

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Hidden

Don’t think I can’t see you there waiting in the darkness, Watching me with every move I make with those eyes. You skulk in the corner thinking I cannot see you there making your way across the floor. You are the creature of cunning and oh so much patience.  I spot you sneaking past me and scale up the wall to your silken residence in the corner. You wait above me contemplating my demise as you rub your spindly legs together. The many orbs glimmer with anticipation as I turn my back to you, unaware that I am fetching the broom I had acquired to thwart you.  Scurrying across the ceiling you try to outpace the many Bristol s of the weapon chosen to smite you. Defeated, you are swept out the door and locked out. You make your way to the corner of the door and await its opening your eyes gleaming.

Something

Light so bright it will bring a tear to your eye.

Trees so green you would think the crayon drew them in.

A master of few and a tradesman of many.

Circles in grass to taunt the minds of brilliance.

Oceans of  sand to weary clouds upon the horizon.

Shadows cling to the corners so subtle.

Windows claim to be openings to the soul.

Fight or flight is always a response.

The end is always near.

Whisper

I Heard whispering among the trees

Far beyond the glassy peaks a timid voice

Brushing past my ear the echoes of no return,

Aside the oceans shore I heard the whisper become a roar

In caves a high pitched scream the whisper escalating,

Brushing past my cheek as forlorn and forgotten

How many times this voice resounded and traveled through mountain passes.

It’s might voice echoing across the stars, or as a whisper flowing gently amongst blades of grass.

It’s parched song billowing with the grains of sand and entwining in the branches of pussy willows.

As a melancholy cry whispering in the weeping willows

to a strong and sturdy cry as it rampages across the mighty plains.

A soft and gentle voice to tiger lilies and buttercups

bringing gossip and songs from far off lands.

How often have we heard the gentle nudge of it’s breath or a full

blown torrid of it’s wrath.

The birds aloft in its ever presence dashing and swooping in the sky.

The precarious depths of the ocean can feel its reach, along the tides and the sun swept beaches it is forever calling.

Brushing it’s voice across the midnight sky and dances with the streams of moonlight.

Many times the whispering has breathed in my ear in passing,

has left a song as it dances along its path.

If ever we are to listen first look to the trees where the whispering begins its  journey.