Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 27 Nylee
Unpolished Ink
The year has turned,
time to plough and plant and sow,
on what seemed dead and lifeless
just a week or two ago
all manner of things have begun to grow,
a spectacle, a carnival, a riotous sight
a free-fall jump to returning light,
the showiest of mummers,
a costumed cavalcade
flowering minstrels
a harlequinade,
life as we should live it,
a wild abandoned dance
nature will lead us if we give her half a chance
 Mar 27 Nylee
Vianne Lior
Soft hush
a lilac hush,
spilling from heaven’s cufflinks.

Dust-throated wind,
draped in violet lace,
forgets how to whisper.

Once,
a petal kissed my wrist,
feather-light, sugar-spun.
(It melted before I could love it.)

Beneath the boughs
time folds like an origami swan.
A child presses footprints into fallen silk,
calls for lullabies.

Glittering
a secret only the butterflies know,
written in ultraviolet sighs.

Stay.
Stay.

But the season is shifting,
jacaranda knows no permanence.

A lilac hush
soft hush
dissolving into sky.

The ground is a love letter
written in violet, waiting for rain.

03/04/2025
Jacaranda's have bloomed in my school.
Farewell :(
 Mar 27 Nylee
Nat Lipstadt
what do I deserve,
more importantly,
what do I know and,
owe you?
(or do I?)

I owe myself
resolution
which comes from
resolutnesss,
which is in scarcity
when cloudy is your visionary,
when your awake,
remaining that way,
no matter how may times you
blink,
ot wipe away the
teary

a firm desire to
see it to the end,
which will come,
could be sooner or later,
with courage, it will be the

former,

I don't forsee the storiedbook fin~ale
that is popularized,
but the
surety of uncertainty
much of my own making,
that is what I deserve,
just my
just dessert
3/25 no excuses
 Mar 27 Nylee
S R Mats
Serene, float among green growth,
Buds desire to open, join the flotilla.
Gentle one, you are like the waterlily
Which grow across the surface,
The still surface of my pond.
 Mar 26 Nylee
November Sky
Tears
are not afraid
to get wet—
tears will find
another way
through—

Like rain cutting
new roads
through rock

Like rivers tricking
land to let go

Even the smallest
drop knows—
water moves
what won’t
Duh
Questions
I already know the answer to
Are hardest to ask
Next page