wb :

another day in that same old park
stretched out upon the stone bench,
counting the stars with tearful eyes,

looking at the trees
the bare branches of winter,

wishing the night would creep a little faster,
steal his way past the curtains of dusk
and cast his cloak over sleepy sunsets

when i heard a little whistle
coming down the lonely path

there she was;

and she sang,
'i look up when i walk
so the tears won't fall,'

and went away, whistling that old song
even as the curtain drew
leaving me
a muted audience in an empty theatre
the lights dimmed to darkness.

but i was there the next day.
the stone bench stood fast
the trees whispered in the wind
the stars held their silent vigil

while i looked up at the sky,
wondering where beyond the blue
lay happiness

and i wished that dusk would tread a little slower,
wished that night would take a little longer,

so that i might catch that wandering whistle

one last time

Labels: poetry

and i sit in the school library-
all the books around me,
all the people i can see,
but not a soul who speaks as though it were free.

a muffled murmur echoes within its walls-
words and whispers, answering silent calls
and yet within these vaunted halls
not a single soul speaks as though it were free.

a barely palpable tingling of my ears-
not silence, all alone with all my fears;
not loudness, engulfing all it hears;
just souls softly swooning, none of them free.

and i tried my best to break from that spell=
to free my comrades, ring liberty's bell
but alas, twas but a raindrop in a well;
and those souls still silently clamor to be free.

so did i join them in self-imposed slavery;
gently struggling, never to be free.

Labels: poetry

Let's start a collaborative poem! Below is the first stanza, add on to the poem and title the posts The Golden Box.

i once spied a golden box
beside the lonely trail;
amongst the grasses' swaying locks,
rustling in the autumn dale.

Labels: poetry