A white coin
Hangs in the sky.
It turns and turns
Like a twinkling eye.
Spreads its light
Through houses and dens
And crosses the land
Over fields and fens.
Category: stream of consciousness
Flurry of Noise
She looked down at her knees and sighed and cried and wished she were thin and that the birds outside would stop their whining. The leaves hung limp from the branches like discarded clothes. She tried to force a smile but her cheeks burned with misery and she could not remember how to turn the muscles of her mouth upwards.
His footsteps still sullied the hallway leading out. Always out. Never in to where she sat waiting. Her fingers fumbled the jewels around her neck, cracked and useless like broken glass crunched beneath boot soles that slammed in her face.Read More »
Shamanic Wandering
Shadows fall on the ground
Draw dark lines
Across the children’s faces
Like tribal markings of holy men
Who crouch over a fire
Stirring worries
And thick magic
Into a spewing bubbling pool
Of liquid lava.
Their eyes flash like fireflies
In the darkness
And draw out the spirits of the dead
From the leaf mulch
That carpets the ground
Beneath their bare feet.Read More »
Enchantment
Like a cocoon of silk
Wrapped in jewels
Her hair
Wisped in the wind
A shell curled round a string
Like a forgotten thing
A talisman
Of ancient wonderings
She waited
She waited.
As one can only do when one is alone and quiet.
Waited for a story to come,
for the last shrill tear of the seagull’s call.
Waited for the final shred of warmth
from the autumn sun’s rays.
In the silent, stirring, yearning depths of herself
an unheard song like a hushed whisper
called for some magic to weave itself into a spell
that danced on the page.
She felt nourished by tales of wizards
chased by shadows
and turning to hunt the darkness
with a staff bleached in light.
And she longed to tell a tale
not unlike those she poured over;
thinking that maybe in that
lay the quenching
of her soul’s thirst.
roshnii 