THE NIGHT

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READ A BOOK

 

 

In a quiet spot

On a soft chair

In the sun’s spotlight

I will read a book

 

Eyes wide open

Pages turning

Sunlight streaming in

I will read a book

 

Hands trembling

Tears falling

Sun warming my body

I will read a book

 

FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD

 

A walk down the street.

Fragrances so sweet.

White cobblestones line the way.

Here is where I want to stay.

Away from the madding crowd.

A place where I can be proud.

This will be my home.

I don’t need a phone.

All I need is a soft bed

To lay down my weary head.

Fishermen’s cries will awake me

To begin my day by the sea.

HEAR THE WHISPERS

 

by hdunsirn:Peabody library, baltimore 9.6.14
©hannahdunsirn

 

The peace.

The quiet.

The silence.

The hush of the hallways.

The smell of books.

The taunt of knowledge.

Sit at a table.

Sit by the stacks.

Sit in the corner.

Feel the adventure.

Live the history.

Learn about life.

DUST IN THE WIND

 

I’m alone

Beneath a tree

In a garden.

No sounds

But birds chirping.

The smell of grass

in the warm air.

What is that sound?

The wind rustling the leaves.

Beautiful.

Relaxing.

Perfect.

The sun retreats.

 

Footsteps draw near.

Too dark to see who it is.

It can’t be.

I’m now dust in the wind.

SOLITUDE

SOLITUDE
A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time...

 

SOLITUDE

A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time alone.
Without T.V. or telephone.
Time to think about your goal.
You will come back feeling whole.

 

STAND TALL

BUDS OF HOPE
In midst of despair and sorrow
Rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
Against all that can go wrong.
These are extreme times of confusion and change,
Media expanding over a broader range.
We are attacked by...

 

 

In midst of despair and sorrow
Rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
Against all that can go wrong.

These are extreme times of confusion and change,
Media expanding over a broader range.
We are attacked by sounds from each direction,
Leaving no time for thinking and reflection.

These flowers know what’s real,
They go by what they feel.
Away from the hustle and bustle,
They grow wild without any tussle.

A day to clear my cluttered mind is all I need.
To recharge my battery is what I should heed.
I’ll recharge in a quiet place like this.
A zest for life is what I dearly miss.

 

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS

Midnight at the Oasis

e-e-r-i-n-e-s-s:

Nosferatu (1922)

The clock chimes midnight.

Time stands​ still.

The music stops.

Dancers freeze in place.

All is quiet.

The clock chimes twelve times.

The music resumes.

Dancing continues without a hitch.

The Dead have assumed control.

THE DEAD GAME has begun.