Inner Reader

Hooked on pages

The story inside

World within

Teleportation

Printed beauty

Escapism first

Cover to cover

Transportation

Sentences flow

Paragraphs born

Coming together

Exhilaration

Adapt

The birds that sing overhead

Insects scuttle underfoot

Fish in the waves, riverbeds too

The life that lives where it can.

Adaptable, making the most of it

They find a way to thrive

Not all but some it must be known

Do proudly soldier on.

Humans as well do this at times

Surviving, taking each day as it comes

For tomorrow is a bright beginning

The chance for life anew

Freestyle #2

We see the world the way we want

Rose-tinted glasses or the skeptics shades

Optimist, pessimist and realist alike

Perceive and analyse, fitting their views

Good or evil, grey area morals

Ethics for some but foreign to others

Perhaps our realities aren’t the same

Parallel but never to entwine

Marching onwards in shared time

But never sharing the who, what or why

Bring the right thing

Some people bring the sunshine

Others bring the rain

Some people bring both at once

The joy and the pain

Some people want what’s best

For you and all their kin

Others only see themselves

Their selfishness kicks in

What is it that you bring

To other people’s lives

Sunshine full of kindness

Or rain that drives and drives?

Clouds of Cotton Wool

Sublime sunshine

Clouds of cotton wool

Glorious brightness

It’s all so wonderful

Streaming through glass

Lights up my day

Even when sofa-bound

It comes to say hey

Colours of blue

Green of the grass

Beautiful weather

Let’s hope it won’t pass

The Dark

Something creeps, unseen and unheard.

It lurks in the corner, not saying a word.

Maybe it’s waiting, biding it’s time.

Or maybe there is no reason or even no rhyme.

Blankly it sits, emotionless air.

What is it? What are you? Why are you there?

The dark does not speak, react or reply.

It simply exists, alone, and unable to die.

But wait, something is stirring.

Deep inside, the dark is whirring.

Silent movement, it leaves its place.

A discovery is made; the dark has a face.

Teeth not human, eyes glowing white.

Blood on its mind, eager for the fight.

It’s right there behind you, but you mustn’t scream.

The dark has chosen you, and this is not a dream.

Stress

It can hit you like a bus

Or creep up in the dark

It takes on many guises

And it always leaves a mark.

Maybe you feel sick

Or maybe it’s an ache

Could be pain deep inside

A presence that keeps you awake.

Your whole mood may change

Is it anger, worry or fear?

A low and desolate place

Nobody wants to be here.

But the light is nearby

Somewhere round the bend

Keep on going, be oh so brave

It’ll be worth it in the end.