Monday, 21 January 2013

p o ems

These are my poems for English. I'm posting them a little late but yeah.




 The Queen of Snow
The edge of her dress skims across the mountaintops
Light and airy as my mother’s song curling through the air
Sweet pink candy in the shopkeeper’s hand
Icy blue of my blueberry cone so cold and sweet
Angelic white blending in with polar bear’s head
Flickering purples view her kingdom gently, a soft radiance seeping from her form
She is there, there, always there.
Her snowy curtain resting against one shoulder, tips a dewy pink
Queen Aurora, the majestic beauty of our snowy wonderland.

Gorgeous and kind she is the elegant lady conferring with her acquaintances,
Gentle and all seeing she is like the satiny breath of the after storm perfume,
She observes with a soft gaze with nimble fingers playing her harp of the fox fur chimes.
Lady Borealis her subjects cry with glee, calls echoing across the kingdom.
But she also resembles my mother so poised, supportive and strong
Worry glitters in her eyes, a mist of tears cloud her eyes as a weary child falls at her feet,
Loving arms surrounding the body, protecting from the demons of the night.
She is the guardian, the snow lady, my mother, the queen of the lands she graces the skies with
The light guiding the way, setting dark mountaintops aglow
Aurora with her velvety hair and eyes so bright
Won’t you light the way tonight?
 


Whisper, whisper, whisper goes the river as I swing my feet in the air
The sun shines brightly but my mood an inky night
The cotton of my sweater is uncomfortable
The dark denim clinging to my skin is too rough
The mahogany of my mother’s hair jars my eyes
My temper sours with the lime green sweet on my tongue
Everything is wrong today.
My toes should not be treading damp strands of after storm grass; fingertips touching the end of a frayed sleeve
Legs holding a petite body upright in a gaping valley far from the butterfly gardens with familiar faces.
One arm wraps around my leg, clinging like a sloth to its tree
My eyes face down viewing the warm puppy cousin with his large eyes
A scowl meanders my lips, following the light pawsteps on the grass
A bark pierces the air, brown paws scampering away; a shout as my feet pound after;
a pad points to a fluttering wing the wind, oranges and pinks meshing into a beautiful sea of colours.
The warm brown of my baby cousin’s eyes outlining the two skittering legs
She flutters gently in the air at the canine’s bark, waving to and fro to the sunlight
And then she goes, carried by the wind’s nurturing arms
Warm orange merging with soft pinks, beauty melding with grace.
My eyes follow the shifting colors in the wind
I see a beautiful green valley soft flowers singing in the breeze,
I see a soaring azure sky, a cluster of iridescent sapphires
I see weeping willow trees crying tears of mingled joy and sadness
The colours sharpening and brightening
She flutters away, the faerie of enlightenment
Bringing revelations to the ones in the dark.

I Am From

I am from red clay pots sitting along hard grey roads,
warm sunshine and heavy raindrops tapping tills
lone animals treading quietly,  the swish of cattle’s tails mingling with the cries of the market.
Fiery dragons breathing columns of fire,
jaded pedants bearing rabbit pads.
Of crystal flutes chiming along to the deep rumble of the Tabla.

I am from Paramore and Taylor Swift
P!nk, Ed Sheeran and Three Days Grace.
I am from Jasport backpacks and shiny silver Macbooks,
of pretty dresses and black converse.
I am from spiced air and soaring skyscrapers
Embassy standing proud as hooves soar above striped oxers.

I am from blue china plates, dove wings fluttering across glass as tall flutes tinkle merrily.
The loud bark of a Yorkshire Terrier, golden brown and grey merging with light.
Gleaming stainless steel food bowls and knotted paw-printed leashes.
From opinions and beliefs, colours brightening and molding across a sheet of canvas.
Music notes black and fleeting yet lingering in the soul
fingers strumming guitar strings and pressing frets lovingly.

I am from crisp white paper stained with musings of my mind
of ink shaping ideas, of characters and places skirting through my dreams.
Paint spattered canvas, ink stained fingertips, charcoal covered palms.
Fine paintbrushes splashing life into grey and pencils sketching endlessly.
I am from battered Beanie Babies and scattered rainbows of rubber bands
messy buns and loose waves tickling the cloth on my shoulder.
Shifting dreams and warm, steady love from my mother’s open arms,
of my father’s never ending support and comforting, confident voice.

I am from the pale moonlight dappling lakes,
mysterious, tender silver setting the murky water aglow yet leaving some hidden.
Fluffy orange dipped clouds drifting slowly along the setting sun,
bursting with memories and full of glimmering hope tinged with acceptance.
I am from the trees, the flowers and the wind;
from the night sky and the breathtaking dawn.
I am from Cassopeia as she glows duskily against the stars,
from the abstract, storytellers of the universe.
Faint stardust spinning through space,
soft red powder forming my features in the timeless void of memories.



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