Neutrophil Canvas.

Twas like the sea.
Shaking.
But still.
Traced on her face.
Whispering peace.
Slow dancing with breeze.
Adrift.
On the unconscious isle.
Swept through the tunnel of blue.
As if dreamt.
Only refined to contrast.
Remembered as lines on her hands.
& reawakened to be found.
Alone.



Garrett Johnson.

Moonlight on her sweater.

Alex took a 3rd.
Shot in her head.
Didn't know any better
She pins the 44 at the wall.
Skulking at the rain.
Tired of the poor of it all
The lie of the weather man.
The azure wind in her ears.
Words.
Saying that ran.
Behind the fears.
Left only foam from her mouth n her toes in the sand.



Garrett Johnson.

Da Dum Da Dum - melodic sonnet beat,
Ten syllables on each and ev'ry line;
Enough to put the reader fast asleep,
And don't forget the **** thing has to rhyme.
Just fourteen lines exact, no more - no less,
To revel in some tantalising plot;
Two short quatrains endeavour to address,
And introduce the who, the where, the what.
Then just four lines to tell a second tale,
That wends and weaves on some tangential route,
To set the scene that leads to the unveil
As if the reader gives a flaming hoot!
       A rhyming couplet finishes the tryst,
       To hit them with that all important twist!