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Fantasy

Posted by MFish Posted on 01/05/2018 at 11:13PM Poetry See more by MFish

Come my child and fly with me
to a sunny tropic isle,
where you can see red coconuts
and a purple crocodile.
Imagination is your friend
as we lift, from off the floor,
while spreading wings, beat quicker now
and we begin to soar.
Drifting through the clouds,
like puppets on a string
and wind with it's freshest breath
makes all our clothing sing.
Look down my child,
look down below,
beneath us, on the ground,
as we see trees of coconut
and hills made out of mounds
of chocolate, marshmallows
and other sweets to eat,
provided that you keep it
from sticking to your feet.

Sins

Posted by MFish Posted on 01/05/2018 at 10:50PM Other See more by MFish

I hear the wind in the Pines
calling my name,
as though they are beckoning me,
to come forth and to answer
for sins of the past.

Sin's of the past are those of my father
and their fathers, before them, now gone.

For each of us must bear
all the anguish of ages
and make our amends
for those who have gone,
years before.

Lights in the distance,
pillowed softness,
cottony droplets suspended,
in a milky sea,
sound of distant autos running,
muffled by the blanket of fog.

Trees and shrubs, an
occasional person, shrouded
with white, reflective vapors.
Fog lifts from ponds and marshes,
sounds echoing across the flat.

The explosion of two ducks, rising
with squawking beaks and drumming wings.
These are the memories that I remember
from those days of long ago,
when I was young.
The excitement comes
from anticipation.

Love

Posted by MFish Posted on 01/02/2018 at 11:02PM Poetry See more by MFish

If you were not of this world,
I would worship you.
You are the star that guides me
through lonely day and night.
You are the light that turns
the dark into bright.
You are inspiration in my quest above.
You are my everything,
you are my love.

Your avatar
Loy • 01/05/2018 at 12:15AM • Like Profile

I love reading your beautiful poetry.

Frozen droplets, of warm breath,
hang in the air
as the crisp stillness of a
winter morning wraps it's
icy fingers on ear and nose.

In the distance, sits the
mountain, decked out in
it's white finery,
serenely majestic,
with it's cape of haze.

The lake,
a piece of glass,
reflecting every object,
lies tranquil, sullen
and emits the pungent
odor of the sea.

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