I’ve not been there but would love to go
to a country rich with dancing, singing
full of life, cathedral bells all ringing
Lush vines, glistening purple berries grow

Pasta carbonera and gelato
Gustatory satisfaction bringing
Romantic dinners while hearts are winging
blushing Crimson wines, candlelight aglow

walking cobbled streets beneath heaven’s blue
being sung to in gondola reclined

ancient ruins, arts and mountain view
fountains for wishing, two hundred year steps to climb

street vendors, smiling faces greeting you
a peaceful, joyous way to spend one’s time.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.

.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)

set down on satin lining
velvet box laid cautiously
placed on top of other cargo
for the voyage on the sea

strands of precious shining stones
stowed in Captain's quarters
second mate stood by to guard
it was the Captain's orders

secured and safely in the hold
I had no need to fret
the lateen sails were readied
drawn up the mast and set

sun shone brilliant, sky so clear
along Africa's gold coast shore
the journey would be smooth
captain couldn't have asked for more

with Portugal as destination
and royalty waiting there
crew's footsteps scurried on the deck
there was excitement in the air

the caravel set out to sail
'twas in the sixth month of the year
that traditional wedding time
and the date was coming near

the date I had to be delivered
for the princess bride to be
to be worn above her ***** fair
sparkling gems from 'cross the sea

I'll match her love-filled eyes
and complete the four required
not sure of old or new or borrowed
but for blue she'll have sapphire.