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Updated: Sun, 29 Jan 2017 02:26 pm

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I am a feather soaring in the wind. Rising, sinking, circling, curving…


Flames Walking, along the silent street In the darkness, the snow glints like fire I scrunch it with my naked feet It burns, it tingles It’s the burning I desire In front of me, a wet black hole surrounded by blue ice I tremble in my flesh and soul I’m here, I’m there, in no disguise And every step I take leaves a print I measure with my eyes Then a splash, a breath The water flows Blood circles through my veins The fresh wind grabs my skin, so softly it blows My body burns in flames

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Nigel Astell

Thu 31st Jan 2019 15:50

Thanks for your like on Anywhere Will Do

Your poem Under the Cover of the Snow brings such a connection as each verse is read.

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Jon Stainsby

Wed 30th Jan 2019 05:47

Thanks for the likes Pyrola

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John Marks

Sat 15th Sep 2018 18:35

Thanks Pyrola for your liking of 'Strange Fruit'. I really like 'Flames': "It’s the burning I desire". But most of all I love and admire the musicality of your verse. Such a strong sense of metre and rhythm: a dance of words.

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