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Category: Nature

Magic

July 5, 2021July 4, 2021 buildpoetryLeave a comment
There is a black background and at the centre there is a pair of yellow hands with fingers hanging limply over one another, their nails painted neon green.

Take darkness and you’ll make light

You are a magician, in your own right.

And should there be a tower,

Let it crumble

For you are the one who made the earth rumble.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Cocooning

June 30, 2021July 26, 2022 buildpoetryLeave a comment
In a black background, there is a pair of yellow hands with fingers curled into their palms, knuckles touching each other.

I’ve been cocooning,

Getting ready to fly.

For while I’m here,

I’m still growing,

Just biding my time.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Green

June 25, 2021July 26, 2022 buildpoetryLeave a comment
In a black background, there is a green hand held up straight from a side view - their nails neon pink.

Green is the colour of trees

Grass, stems, leaves and moss.

Green is also the heart

Pure, peace, grace and serenity.

Green grows as the heart does,

Gently, gently,

And unyieldingly.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Dark

June 23, 2021July 26, 2022 buildpoetry1 Comment
In a black background, there is a blue hand held up as if making an offer, with fingers curled. Their nails are painted neon yellow.

There are so many things I want to fix.

Because everything is imperfect,

And everything dark seeks light.

But I only have two hands,

So sometimes I think to hell with it

And watch it be consumed by the dark.

How funny that we’ve all,

Missed our mark.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Sand

June 8, 2021June 2, 2021 buildpoetryLeave a comment
There is a black background with a pair of blue hands at the centre, fingers interlacing as they lean to the right with their nails painted neon pink.

I’m lying on the sand,

Covered by the shade.

I can hear the waves and the birds,

As their voices fade.

The children are laughing,

Running with their spades.

How lucky am I to be alive

I prayed.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Not ready

June 3, 2021June 2, 2021 buildpoetryLeave a comment
A pair of blue hands with wrist pressed together as their fingers spread wide and curl in different directions. Their nails are neon pink.

The day is bright,

But I’m not ready.

So I’ll dive under the blankets,

And pretend I’ve got all the time in the world.

Warm, warm,

How could I bear to leave home?

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Joy

May 20, 2021July 26, 2022 buildpoetryLeave a comment
A yellow hand held up with the palm showing as if in offering. Their nails are painted neon green.

The wind sometimes sneaks through

The small opening of the window.

It moves through the curtains,

And then gently, gently,

Onto the wind chime.

For us to notice,

And to remind us to look up

And notice the joy all around us.

For it notices our sadness,

In times of darkness.

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poems, poetry, writing

Timelessness

May 18, 2021May 7, 2021 buildpoetryLeave a comment
A pair of pink hands with the index fingers of each hand pointing similar to the hands of the clock. Their nails are painted neon yellow.

When I think of timelessness,

I think of eight year old me.

Running in the garden,

Catching ladybirds,

And digging for worms.

Did she think of time,

The way that I do now?

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poems, poetry, writing

Home

May 11, 2021May 10, 2021 buildpoetryLeave a comment
A blue hand holding onto the other tightly, their nails painted neon yellow.

I can hear the pitter-patter

Against my window,

As the wind howls longingly.

The trees in the far distance

Sways from side to side.

Does it miss home,

As much as I do?

Posted in Life, NatureTagged muses, poems, poetry, writing

Mud

May 7, 2021July 26, 2022 buildpoetryLeave a comment
A pair of green legs walking, with neon blue nails.

The mud is dirty

Grimy and toxic.

It is a soul-sucking kind of hell.

But in that hell,

Pour essence onto roots

And one day, it will finally shoot.

For the lotus has eventually bloomed,

From the lessons it learnt since womb.

Posted in NatureTagged muses, poems, poetry, writing

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