Marie381Uk
Bio
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Stories (3367)
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Little Bird
Little Bird Little Bird so light and gentle, God's creation. What a painting it turned out to be, feathers of a chukaroo. Makes me think of trees standing tall, like him—gosh, bet he was 6ft 2; my head was just above his belly. I am so small. Like apples falling from a tree, look at him, look at me! So little bird, I hear your voice as you sing to me: wrong choice.
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
My Dream Holiday
My Dream Holiday The view from the sky was amazing, as we were landing. my world suddenly turned good expanding. You held my hand like my mum used to do reassuring me all was well I got a card for my uncle tom hope he is better soon. Look at me in the sky with the stars and the moon. Astronomy was always interesting in school. I was a fool crushing in on my teacher. Like the feeling of being on the waltzer at the fair, leaning as we spun round and round. the holiday begins in ten minutes as we land. Once a Robin landed on my washing line, one red breast. Got my sun cream and best towel for the sand. He held my hand tighter as we landed while I closed my eyes oh god did I close the window in the porch? Lots of mail will pile up it will be all junk. Well not that much in a week. The lights looked great from the sky, it looks like Christmas I said down there. He just smiled. Touch down, and wow I am in Spain. He rubbed his hand, did I cause that pain? Hard to believe he was a stranger in a seat when I got on. Bye he said hope you enjoy the holiday he quickly made for the exit. I woke up wow what a dream so it was just a dream no need for sun cream funny how the mind can wonder to anywhere, and beyond there. Who was the guy who held my hand where is my holiday now? the sea the sand.
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
