Category: Poems

Dazzling lights and skylines. 

Lakes and sunsets too. 

Waterfalls, mountains, are to come. 

Skies of pink and blue. 

But for now we hit the hay

For we are tired and worn. 

And we lay our heads in Omaha. 

The city of lots of corn. 

Sweet, creamy, vanilla. 

Soft, velvety, whipped cream. 

Tangy, juicy, cherry. 

Perfection. Cold, refreshing, perfection. 

Stars don’t just twinkle twinkle
High up in the sky
They are bridges
To outer space
Bridges to our souls
They shine and shimmer
They whisper words of beauty
And kidnap our hearts
Stars are creatures of our imagination
But beautiful wonders of science.
Stars don’t just
Twinkle twinkle.

I want to fly.

I want to swim through
The clouds, to find
A sanctuary.
I want raging waterfalls
I want gorgeous sunsets
I want dazzling campfires
And towering mountains.
I want blizzards,
Beaches,
Storms,
And sand.
I want adventure
I want freedom
I want nature.

I want to fly.

Lightning fills the sky.
Thunder cracks in the distance.

Wind whips at the building.

Rain cascades on the window panes.
Lights flicker.
Trees quake and quiver.
The storm is here. 

Will it ever leave?

A tiny sapling
With a patch of sunlight
Its spotlight shines
It quivers in fright

Tall trees surround
The small baby tree
Who want to grow tall
As tall as the eye can see

Slowly it grows
As children sit in its shade,
And as it grows tall
Its worries begin to fade

It lives a good life
With friends all around
But one day a “CHOP”
Sends the tree to the ground

Then all around
It sees lots of streets
Buildings and cars
And people with feet

Its world now destroyed
It cried tears of sap
Knowing its tree friends
Can never grow back

With its last breath
The tree looks up at the sky
Surrounded by nature
The old oak tree dies.

The forests are dying
So if you want to breathe
The world needs more people
Who speak for the trees.

A young maiden once lost her shoe
From the beautiful palace she flew
The clock struck midnight
The girl ran in fright
Wearing a dress that was blue.

Three little pigs ran away
And one made a house out of hay
One out of sticks
One out of bricks
Which kept the big bad wolf away.

There was a young girl wearing red
She had a hood on her head
She trekked through the woods
With a basket of goods
To visit her Granny in bed.

I sit patiently 

The white hot lights burn my eyes

Music starts… Showtime. 

For every beginning
There is an
End
For every
Good
There is
Evil
For every
Up
There is
Down
For every
Warmth
There is
Cold
For every
Smile
There are
Tears

However…
For every
War
There is
Peace
For every
Death
There is
Birth
For every bit
Of Darkness,
There is a bit
Of light.