The Matriach
The Matriarch
Swaying gently in the breeze,
I am one of the tall pine trees.
Needles fall like rain,
upon the forest's counterpane.
Cones like hailstones to the ground.
The forest animals alert to every sound.
Stirrings from the forest floor,
I wait to oversee proceedings,
a performance which I am leading.
You dare to sit on my branches birds.
I shake you off, you ...
Tuesday 8th January 2019 8:51 am
Greed
This weeks rhymers theme..overeating
Greed Haiku
The scales of doom loom
On the floor of my bathroom
Greed you may assume
© 2018 Taylor Crowshaw
Saturday 5th January 2019 6:00 am
Recent Comments
Trevor Alexander on Favorite Poet
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Just Smile!
5 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Just Smile!
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Start Monday
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Tyrants Fall
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The 'Perfect Son'
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
8 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Poem Of Life
10 hours ago
Martin Elder on Call me soon
11 hours ago