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by Joy
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #2088946
A folder for my writing August 2017 & July 2016
Sig from bids

House Florent Image for G.o.T.




S

omething marvelous about writing and language...

                                                           Both can always be done better.

                                                 This item will be no exception to that rule. *Laugh*


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July 11, 2016 at 9:26pm
July 11, 2016 at 9:26pm
#887125
182 words

House Florent Image for G.o.T.


After the Storm



After the storm, rain will still gush down the gutters,
wind will drift and lift fallen petals off the ground,
aspens will whisper to moonlight’s thick, furry gloom,
fragments of frightful tales through flowerless hours.

So it’ll be all over; I’ll dream dreams of my own making
since I know to tiptoe through blood, let there be no mistaking.

For time flows in blue rivers, leaving behind blues
inside earth’s dark cracks and unfamiliar lows,
and while age denies memories, messes, milestones,
these fox ears will remain vertical, pert, and alert.

So it’ll be all over; I’ll dream dreams of my own making
since I know to tiptoe through blood, let there be no mistaking.

Next, you’ll return to this room you had once reserved,
the gate will grate at the fence, later inside my head,
then, you’ll sing at my door while I still mourn my pain
and I’ll stuff your mouth with brush, bramble, and thorn.

So it’ll be all over; I’ll find dreams of my own making
since I know to tiptoe through blood, let there be no mistaking.
July 8, 2016 at 9:07pm
July 8, 2016 at 9:07pm
#886863
107 Words

House Florent Image for G.o.T.



I wish I could take it back
those moonless nights
my drifting through open doors
just to touch your hand
your timid, uncommitted vows
like a clumsy angel taking
the wrong turn on a winding road
and vanishing in the eclipse.

I wish I could take it back
-suspended inside clouds-
all those accidentals,
accidental affections
accidental assumptions
accidental awakenings
skewering the heart
on pointed sticks.

I wish I could take it back
my constant recall
of ancient stories clinging
to flickering candles
wrapping me deeply
inside my own shadow
and your words whispered at dusk
forgotten by daybreak.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2088946-Writing-For-GOT/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/6