A boy. Restless, hyper-all
through vessels sugar rushes.
Oh, the fun!
Cars on a colorful rug
against the laws of physics
Toy soldiers fighting aloud —
shooting, breaking, demolishing.
A plush Teddy, now a stained bear — suffers.
Stuffing hovers and falls.
Broken pencils, scraps, slips, splinters
taking over the floor. No room for
a car and soldier toys.
A child, when there is no more space for him to play — departs.
The mother will clean up; the child will return.
A Human, when there is no more space for him to play — departs.
The Mother will clean up. The Human — removed.
No room for a toy soldier if Mother gets hurt.
A town embraced by earth’s hips and bosom,
neatly lain between the curves and sways of trees,
colorful under the heavy clouds,
brighter soaked in rain…
Welcomed me into its cold, yet reassuring hug.
When the sunshine drops through the sky’s rug
it glimmers and laughs, echoing over the mounts.
Loud… and silent when silence is required
wet… and dry when your feet get tired,
Posted in Other Poems |
Tagged Balkan, city, country, Earth, East, heaven, home, love, memory, mother Earth, mountains, mounts, poet, poetry, rain, river, state, town, West, writing |
Made by Jesse Newman
The smell of rain in June
Rising from the stone
Like a whirl of wind
Swaying – in a tune
The breath of fresh air
Uniting in Its flight
Reaching up above
My senses – delights
Together now we dance
With nature’s true shade
Oh! The summer can play
A surprising, risky game
Fields – soaked in juice
Enjoying the cloud show
Before the times change
And bring dry revenge
Gaea, worried in her realm
Strewn by global events
Frowns upon this kind
Oh! Are we all so blind?
Urging us to contemplate
From our seats we must rise
Lie on nearby meadow
And think about the skies.