All That I Am
all that I am
all that I’m trying to be
is lost here inside of me
April 6th 2010
poem by Twilight Whispers
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You Grew A Memory
Somewhere along the road on which we were walking,
The little path we used to follow religiously every morning,
The street with the fancy iron bars and birch trees and neatly kept houses,
Someone had planted a memory.
The memory lay concealed within a tiny cardboard box,
Lying there contentedly, wrapped in several layers of tissue paper,
The words written lovingly in shiny blue ink,
Inscripted onto the parchment until the rain destroyed the box
And washed the memory away.
poem by Twilight Whispers
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My Four Seasons
I gaze out through my window to the colours of the leaves,
Reds and browns and yellows floating like fairies from the trees.
I follow the as they burst alive and dance among the breeze,
And my smile is echoed effortlessly in the colours of the leaves.
I peer out through my curtains to the snow upon the ground,
Dreaming of the diamonds drowsily fluttering from the clouds,
Strewn across the hedgerows and the fields and all around,
The snow lies peacefully sleeping, a jewel upon the ground.
And look! - all of a sudden grow the bluebells in the wood!
Swaying happily to and fro, just like they always should.
And as the spring awakens, rusty from the flood,
The sun begins to shine upon the bluebells in the wood.
At last, through my curtains I see the flowers of July,
Their beauty almost mirrored in the sunshine in the sky,
And I see the tuplips grinning as a bright blue butterfly
Lands upon the petals of the flowers in July.
poem by Twilight Whispers
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Everybody dreams.
Everybody dreams.
Children dream,
Adults dream,
Old people dream.
I dream, too.
I dream about the friends with whom I'll grow old,
I dream about the person whose hands I'll hold,
I dream about being young and in love,
I dream about loved ones, looking down from above.
I dream of the places I'll one day see,
I dream of being wild and free,
I dream of my house, high on the rocks,
I dream of the sand underneath my socks.
I dream of the people I'd love to greet,
I dream of the things I'll say when we meet,
I dream of hearing their voices sing,
[...] Read more
poem by Twilight Whispers
Added by Poetry Lover
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