Snake
A snake in the grass,
like an argument
we had last week.
Is it deadly?
Is it still there,
watching? Or
did it slither away,
never to be seen again?
Poetry (Day 267): Painting
Painting
Trail of dust
from the patchwork
grey skies
of the bedroom
to the fridge
and back.
Poetry (Day 266): Indecision
Well, another milestone. 100 days to go. But if I’ve just turned into the home straight then, from here, it looks like the longest home straight since Ferdinand Magellan rounded the Cape of Good Hope.
But YAY! 100 days to go.
Don’t forget about the competition. Comment, Like, Retweet, Reblog to go in the draw for the paperback version of my year of poetry. (Liking doesn’t get you anything, other than gratitude, because it doesn’t help spread the word.) So far, two people have got the bulk of the entries between, so it would be nice for some other people to get in there as well.
I’ve also started editing book 2 of my fantasy series The Last Great Hero. Poetry is slowing that down, but it is happening.
Anyway. A poem.
Indecision
I know enough
to know
I could be wrong.
So I sit
and stare
and hope
that the problem
will solve itself.
I am trapped
on a Mobius strip
of indecision.
Poetry (Day 265): Writing
Writing
Fingers on the keyboard.
Clickety-clack.
Two steps forward,
one step back.
Poetry (Day 264): Fairy Tale
Fairy Tale
I was asleep
in the wilderness,
but she woke me
with a gentle goodnight kiss
that lingered on my lips,
like a smile,
even after she had gone.
Poetry (Day 263): Magpies
Magpies
Tough guys,
like magpies,
squawking as you pass.
They flap their wings,
shouting threats and
crowding close behind
Just keep walking,
and when you’ve gone
they’ll high five and preen
as if that wasn’t where you were going
all along.
Poetry (Day 262): Eraser
Eraser
A pencil has an eraser
for when we make mistakes
but no matter how many times
we say I’m sorry,
the ghost of our indiscretions
will always be there on the page
for all the world to see.
