For Tucker

Time has slipped right through our fingers,

but the love between us forever lingers

And despite the fact that you’re now gone,

your cherished memories still live on.

I’ll remember you, and treasure you

– for as long as I possibly can

Keeping those memories in my mind,

until we meet again.





Prompt #234: ( A.K.A: the Worst Poem in the World. )

It was cold and dank,

that eve I remember.

Trees bare, and stripped of life,

once upon a December night.

I had taken my Draft out for a canter,

round the sickled bend.

As I had many a time,

and once upon a December night.

We made good timing, indeed we did.

Yes, we’d be home within an hour or so,

and rest beside the fire’s glow, as we’ve always done,

once upon a December night.

However, just a mile from our abode,

we stumbled across a fine-furred foe,

whose blood-stained teeth gnashed and clashed,

once upon a December night.

‘Shoo, foul demon!’ I shouted in utmost terror,

my stallion too, whinnied a troubled neigh.

Our query, with intentions so morbid, simply stood his ground,

once upon that December night.

He’d placed us upon his plate of fear,

No, he wouldn’t go hungry tonight.

Lest I stood my ground, and brought myself to fight,

once upon that disturbingly fateful,

December night.

 The Cold Walls

Cold walls of ivory stone,

planted here by men unknown.

Tiled hallways where the downtrodden pass,

on their way to toil in class

Their empty voices seething silence,

telling not of their compliance.


Her fingers peck the keyboard,

her mind wanders astray.

Those oceanic eyes of hers

are fixed so far away.

She can feel every single thing,

Yes, it’s clear as day.

Scrutinizing eyes at her back,

which only further her dismay.

She knows that she’s not wanted here,

like a war, a clash, a fray.

But she only wants her solace,

and just to live another day.

Those cold bricks of ivory stone,

block her views way.

Another door is slammed shut,

her house of sticks gives way.

This cavity is turning black,

wallpaper peeling in decay.

She is so very frightened,

for these thoughts she can’t portray.

Her noose is tightened,

hands are shaking,

those pale fingers nip the keys.

But she, but she, with eyes of doubt,

can’t help but fall prey.

She can only watch in horror as her shambled world,

simply fades away.

(( More work coming! ))


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