Adeeyoyo's Blog

I write what I feel…


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ORIGIN

Post No. 924

29 May 2016

Origin

.

Archaeologists, palaeontologists

Scrabble and unravel through the rubble of the past

Seeking the secret of God,

The origin of man,

And where we first began.

,

Copyright: Denise Allen. 29.05.2016 09:12

 


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THE LIGHT

Post No. 923

26 May 2016

The Light

.

From the brain to the mouth,

From the smooth to the rough

Just an inflection can change our direction,

Submerged in the daily wash of words

We ride the tide on the winds of change

And learn to speak the language of love,

Moving the world to feel and heal

From the darkness into the light –

Whether it be day or whether it be night.

.

Copyright: Denise Allen. 26.05.2016 07:07

 


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Renewal

Post No. 921

21 May 2016

.

Renewal

As the waves along the shore

Leave lines of debris marking tides

And days follow days as waves follow waves

Nothing stays the same;

Our fingers shed their skin

Until it is too thin, too smooth,

Their prints have gone –

Whirls and swirls in the cosmic dawn.

.

Copyright: Denise Allen. 21.05.2016 15h10


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Change

Post No. 920

Change

.

The wind rips the leaves to blanket the lawn

While we mourn the passing of summer;

Autumn air, still warm, brushes our skin

In this land of harsh contradictions

Where colours vie for recognition

And winter stands poised on the edge of the precipice,

Hesitant to leap into the abyss.

.

Copyright: Denise Allen 17.05.2016 06:44


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The Tree

Post No. 920

The tree

The tree stands taller than tall
Against the blue, blue sky
And the mountains fall
Boulder by boulder
To the valley below
The changes echo
Rumbling low
Lightning strikes here,
There, everywhere
Dancing to thunder’s tune
And the sweet fresh feel of the rain
Energizes us once again

Copyright Denise Allen, 08.04.2016 10:25


7 Comments

The Past

*Edited

Post No. 919

The Past

 

The past keeps pace with the present

A moving shadow walking in our shoes

Echoing who we were

Molding us into who we are

Tap, tap, tap in stiletto heels

Clomp, clomp, clomp in brogues

There’s no escaping history

Just how is a mystery, but

The past lies waiting at the gate

 

 

Copyright Denise G Allen, 6 April 2016 10:30

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