Creative Writing Saturday

English: Bird flying from the branch. In the b...

English: Bird flying from the branch. In the back dark clouds. Magyar: Ágról repülő madárka. Fölötte beborult az ég. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If I Could Fly Like A Bird

If I could fly like a bird
I would soar like an angel
Through the valley of death
Through the tunnel of the great white light
Sit cross legged on top of Everest
Migrate the seasons of the continents
If I could fly like a bird
The seven seas would become my own
Anywhere would become my home
If I could fly like a bird
I would ride a solar wind
Catch the tail of a comet
Explore the mystery of a black hole
Make infinity my home
If only I could fly
All my dreams
Would be dreams with feathers ~ Allan James Saywell

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Creative Writing Saturday

Yellow clouds before thunderstorm 3

Yellow clouds before thunderstorm 3 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An African Thunderstorm

From the west
Clouds come hurrying with the wind
Turning sharply
Here and there
Like a plague of locusts
Whirling,
Tossing up things on its tail
Like a madman chasing nothing.
Pregnant clouds
Ride stately on its back,
Gathering to perch on hills
Like sinister dark wings;
The wind whistles by
And trees bend to let it pass.
In the village
Screams of delighted children,
Toss and turn
In the din of the whirling wind,
Women,
Babies clinging on their backs
Dart about
In and out
Madly;
The wind whistles by
Whilst trees bend to let it pass.
Clothes wave like tattered flags
Flying off
To expose dangling breasts
As jagged blinding flashes
Rumble, tremble and crack
Amidst the smell of fired smoke
And the pelting march of the storm. ~ David Rubadiri

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Creative Writing Saturday

The Moon

Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide;
Mortality below her orb is placed.
-Raleigh

The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray
Mounts up the eastern sky,
Not doomed to these short nights for aye,
But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortune,
Which her rays do not bless,
My wayward path declineth soon,
But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here,
And paled is her light,
Yet alway in her proper sphere
She’s mistress of the night. ~ Henry David Thoreau

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Creative Writing Saturday

English: Moon

English: Moon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Breathe Into Me

At night I open the window and ask
the moon to come and press its
face against mine.

Breathe into me. Close
the language-door and open the love-window.
The moon won’t use the door,
only the window. ~ Rumi

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