RAINDROPS ON MY MIND

 

 

 

Raindrops on my mind.
A feeling of cleanliness.
How can we resist its pull?
It draws us to the window.
To watch its majestic descent.
It washes away all dirt and impurities.
Wash me.
Make me fresh and new.
Who can ask for anything more?

THE FALLEN

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

 

 THE FALLEN

 

Tree branches bend,

scarred by age.

Beaten by the storm,

many hit the ground

amid piles of leaves.

Without a proper burial,

no one mourns their loss.

The fallen won’t be forgotten

as replacements take root

in the shade of the tall trees.

Sunshine filters through the forest,

lighting the way for the future.

WE WAIT FOR THE NIGHT

 

We wait for the night,

dry from the sun,

weak to our roots.

We yearn for moisture,

petals limp,

stems drooping. 

We wait for the night,

for the moonlight

to ease our pain.

We wait for the dew

to quench our thirst,

to replenish our souls.

We wait for the sun

to lift its fiery head

and begin its daily ritual.

We are ready

to face the new day

with arms lifted.

A VORTEX OF HORROR






Brutal winds follow close on my heels.
Thunder and lightning join the crusade.
Fluorescent lights paint the night sky
In rings of orange, yellow, and red. 

A vortex of horror in unending circles
Makes its way to the town of Oasis.
I wait with a sword in hand,
Secure in the knowledge that Wolf won’t win. 

The Watchers have joined the battle.
I can see them on the hill beyond.
Their raincoats flap in the wind,
Revealing their hidden weapons.

We protect Linda from the devil,
Standing firm in the fighting winds.
The Father clutches his bible of spells
To help cast the evil from this town.

Humans, vampires, and human vampires
Have come together as one.
The last battle on this earthly planet
Will determine the fate of us all.

Linda holds onto her friends,
Huddled together in the raging winds.
Will she choose wisely?
Will she choose me above The Dead?

The time has come for the showdown.
Time has slowed to a stop.
We raise our weapons above our heads
As we wait for evil to make its final appearance.

Wolf sports a new body.
I still recognize his deadly soul.
A new package for an old one
Does not change the battle to be won.

Our games have just begun.

THE DEAD GAME

EMPTY INSIDE

By Rhaevyn Hart

 

Do you feel empty inside?

You have nothing to offer the world.

No words of wisdom to share.

No pretty pictures to paint.

No music to play.

This isn’t true.

Everyone has something to offer.

Let no one make you feel unimportant.

Each of us has an important role to play.

What is yours?

DESERT LANDSCAPE

 

 

Full of worries and contradictions,

it blasts away any chance of peace.

Thoughts jumbled in cobwebs,

lining halls of utter despair.

Bells ring along curved walls,

warnings to take care.

One hole is filled

as another emerges.

A shovel can’t do the job,

won’t save me from my pride.

Sleep, be my savior,

refresh my state of mind.

Bring hope to this desert landscape,

full of worries and contradictions.