Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Whisper Yes Oct 2017
I notice the group of homeless people I see every morning
However this morning they are fully involved in some sort of drama
I notice how one man puts his arm around the other man
I notice the humanness, the support, the love and care

I notice the woman with the **** on her back
It pushes her fully forward so she can't see the sky
I notice her and her husband walking along by the sea
I notice how he is holding her hand
The sight fills my eyes with tears
I hope they go and drink a coffee and share a slice of carrot cake
I hope he kisses her cheek and tells her he loves her
I imagine a blanket of love enveloping them both

I notice the woman with the gold sandals and bunch of floweres sticking out her bag
I notice her dishevelled hair and clothes
I sense her aloness
Her sandals and floweres make me smile
I hope they make her smile too

The moments of beauty
The human need for love, beauty and support
These moments are all around
Within the sadness and dark realities
They are there
The magic is there
I saw these three things on my run this morning....❤
Mary Pritchard Dec 2009
Category: Writing and Poetry
Sometimes I wish I understood
Why things go the way they do
Sometimes I wish I understood
Why the sky is not always blue
Sometimes it gray
Sometimes it rains alot
And the sun fades
And the wind blows
Then my eyes close
And I see
Nothing
Nothing but emptiness
From within
And I close my eyes again
And dream
Of soft spring days
That never end
And crisp bright floweres
That never fade
That never wilt
That never shed their leaves
And sweet April days
That always stay
The rain that comes
Sometimes in May
To sweep the flowers away
From one single tear
To many that flow
Down to the bottoms
Of storybook houses
And the lives of the characters
Their names so many
Their lives like mine
So fair away
Vladimir s Krebs Dec 2015
when the moon is full so are my eyes. when winter seems to be around the corner. something dies in me. a small pach of flower's when it grows cold so dose my soul. when it rains it floods and rip's apart the nartral beauty that lyes in me the gental feeling grows heavy and horrable. what dead floweres in me is whn im dead in side
ment to be peace full guess not

— The End —