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Dylan Mar 2023
Orbs of rain burst upon the shingles;
collapse in rhythmic joys.

They trace along your teary windows;
surveying the black trees,
and clinch to withered bark.
Knotting night and day with the quiet dark.

A burst of ocher clouds in the indigo sky,
and your eyes barely open.
You're safe here;
nestled in cold sheets
in the shallows of early morning.

Solace dwells in silence,
and the brisk summer dawn.
You're safe here;
stepping through the lamplight
and the dew blanketed lawn.
Kamila Jul 2021
It's been awhile since I'm in the road,
A ******* suitcase taken with myself,
I've tried to fit and carry my whole home,
But home's a feeling and a place.

And all the maps and changing routes,
Those random people I have met
Have brought no answers and no clues
To where I do belong and where I'm at.
xavier thomas May 2021
we snuggle
keep it tight
freaky in the day
wild during nights
Brendann May 2021
I look up at the sky
So blissful and dark
So clear
Filled with an ocean of stars

And

I'm comfortable

Not happy
Not pleased
But comfortable

Because I have a sliver of hope
That even tho you live thousands of miles away
You're looking at the same star I am
And smiling, the same way.
Free Verse
Serena Jun 2020
What if it rained indoors?
Whenever we heard distant thunder
or the weather report said rain
then we would pick up all our things,
go outside and sit and wait
for the drops to stop falling from the ceiling.

Would we sleep in houses, still?
If the roof was like a cloud
and woke us up at 3 am
instead of a pattering at the window,
a pattering on our face?

We could make buildings just for this,
and when it started pouring
we would form lines, hoping to get inside
to take a shower in the rain
singing songs and goofing off.

What if it rained indoors?
Whenever we felt a tiny drop
we would build a comfy pillow fort
with blankets, snacks and giggles
and cuddle till the morning.
Mark Toney Dec 2019
Happy
*****
6/5/2018 - Poetry form: Footle - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018 - I'm not trying to raise a stink, but my footle poem phase continues.  It's so hard to change :)
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Woke up Sunday morning
Put on my Sunday best,
'Cause I didn’t want to go
And look different from the rest.
When the meeting was over
Was among the first to go.
Made a beeline home
Put on some comfy clothes.

Every weekday I work
Must wear a suit and tie
Feels so **** confining
It makes me wanna cry
By the time my shift is over
Tell you goodness knows
Can’t wait to get on home
Put on some comfy clothes.

Comfy clothes are great
Doesn’t matter what the season.
Just can’t quite explain it
There is no rhyme or reason.
But if you feel uptight,
Don’t know which way to go,
Things will get a little better
You put on some comfy clothes.
5/18/2018 - Poetry form: Rhyme - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Mortality is surprising as it should be.
That you should die is not implied by life
Or pain. There is a sweater hanging in his closet.
If one were to look closely at the
                       neck the thread begins un
                       raveling the
                       re. No one will
                       notice
                       she s
                       ai
                       d. But it is his sweater and he noticed.
But it is only a sweater and really no one will notice.
It isn't what they look for.
Heretics Abode Feb 2017
The feeling of the sun hitting my pale skin when I’m walking outside on a breezy spring day
And the warmth of a plush blanket
Surrounding my cold,
Shivering body.
Wearing an oversized hoodie that gives off a compelling fragrance
And puts you at ease
And the taste of hot cocoa when it touches your trembling tastebuds.
Wearing your fluffy socks that cover your freezing feet and help you glide across the dining room floors
And the feeling of a special someone’s embrace that can just
Warm your heart up in an instant.
The love you receive to calm your freakish self after a relapse
And the sensation of eating steamy chicken noodle soup when you’re ill.
The heat that hits your palms when you sit near a campfire
And the sensation of lounging in a hot bath after a long day.
Everything wonderful,
Everything warm.
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