Poetry Blogs (calling)
All around me the fog dances
I look on to see as it tests its chances
Waiting for me to open the gate
I stare at it as it does the same
I take a step closer it watches
I take another
It's eyes slightly bigger
I open my mouth to speak
Nothing comes out
The fog whispers do not
I stay where I stand
Not daring a step
Friday 30th March 2018 4:41 pm
Was it all real,
what was said in the night?
Words sound different in the morning.
But isnt the Romantic the one who knows right?
He is the one who sees clearly
that other world moving through us.
Believe the heights, believe the depths;
it is the banality of the middle ground that lies,
not the joy of the morning or the pain of the night.
I must cling to what is ...
Monday 11th July 2016 5:02 am