Poetry Blog by mollie learmonth
Little men with little hats,
running with the bats.
over the hedge and under the fence,
dodging frustrated cats.
people call us gnomes. but thats not who we are...
were pixies born from guilded stars.
hearing mother nature call when all the leaves begin to fall.
sprinkling diamonds in woven webs on frosty mornings
when all thats green slumbers in its bed...
Thursday 15th October 2015 4:39 pm
A twisted oak coiled round its self the perfect home for a mouse.
He climbed up a twisted branch and made his peace there, he built a nest of twine in the hollow center.
twine woven in brade, ants climbing up in parade. the army came to a hault and flead, they
feared for their lives and would rarther not be dead.
the stars a gemstone, the moon an ivory marble in a get jar.
Monday 17th August 2015 8:11 pm
On a hot summers eve close to the twighlight,
the marble of crimson came rolling down past sight.
Misty clouds coating the ever changing sky.
birds whistle their last tune before slumber calls them.
Stars begin to light.
Soon it will be night.
Close to the twighlight.
Monday 17th August 2015 8:03 pm
birds in evergreens
worth your whiles
and sappy little trees
and a gentle summer breeze
Wednesday 29th July 2015 4:09 pm
Humming bird, buzzing bird
flying high, oh so absurd.
how i wish i flew to see the forming dew
then left another morning new.
there will be room for you.
on the star we'll fly so high
over, under, in the sky.
singing fairies lulabies.
watching rolling tides.
flying slow flying low,
over swaying medows
seeking stars that glow,
then going home.
Wednesday 8th July 2015 4:07 pm
It's not about what you eat, it's not about what you wear.
It doesn't really matter whether you're a peach or a pear.
When the star you see blinks at me,
it died years ago but its ghost is still seen.
On the crystal cold days when your breath turns to smoke,
something secret seen to all,
sometime then I will fall.
Caressed by the sand man wrapping me with drowsiness,
Friday 3rd July 2015 2:27 pm