Poetry Blog by mollie learmonth (moon)
moon (Remove filter)
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