Do you feel the angels?
Do you hear their song?

As the snows comes falling
Do you wish you could fall along?

In the night sky
Do you stare on out?

As the voices whisper
Do you want to scream and shout?

I won’t tell you,

How good you have it.

Though it’s true

It seems you know all about it.

Do you hear the barking dogs?
As you close your eyes

Do you feel the breeze?
As I find that you will slowly die

A midnight dream.

We flow across the stream.

I think of you
because I love you
and when I am no longer
do not forget to
reMember.

Standing at the portal
Of the massive stone engender
Clenching as the sweat
Runs down the sinews of my arm,
Glaring at the enemy's
Rendition of surrender
And knowing, well within,
Why he means to do me harm.

Watching so acutely
For the sliding of his eyeball
Inching to the left
In a slithering advance,
Waiting for the quiver
Of deception's feint, so ribald,
Then lunging with the blade
At his severanced last dance.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ

I love Sunday for its quietness,
I love Sundays, for there is no rush.
I love Sundays for writing poetry.
I love Sundays for the hush.
I love Sundays for the calm before the storm.
I love Sundays because my mind reboots to the norm.
I love Sundays because I can take my soul for a walk,
And let it roam across heavenly realms.
I love Sundays to be without an agenda that I have to chalk.
I love Sundays, to remember.
I love Sundays, and that's where I will be,
Loving You more without animosity.

Time doesn’t move slow
If you were a butterfly you’d know
Chase the glow
Inspiration
Gentle melody
Flow
Cognition
Ephemeral beauty
Know
Transient light
Moon lit night
Carry it home
—Timothy Charles Carter