Poetry Blog by mollie learmonth (high)
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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
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