Friday 28 February 2014

More poetic efforts.

Just thought that I'd share my latest poetic attempts which I produced for my latest Open University assignment. This one was quite a challenge for me as we had to write 2-3 poems, totaling 40 lines, using different techniques. I found it quite hard to write in this almost calculated way, but I'm sure that it's been good for me. This course is definitely stretching me and is more difficult than I anticipated. But with my new motto courtesy of Bitstrips and Maya Angelou I'll get there. 
I hope you enjoy my efforts. 

Christmas cheer!

When Christmas comes we the hit the shops once more,
To find the perfect gift that will enthrall.
We trudge our weary way from store to store,
We blindly weave our way through every mall.
We walk past people sleeping on the streets
Ignoring outstretched hands and rattling tins.
Our minds intent on bringing Christmas treats
To those already blessed with everything.

And hospices where people go to rest!
Their families distraught, hearts full of pain.
A lonely man decides it’s for the best
If, tomorrow he does not wake up again.
And so the season of good will transcends
The peace on earth and goodwill towards men. (14 lines)

Isabel Johnstone 2014 ©

Secret self

No one really knows me!
Not the real me, the secret me.
Hidden deep within, in a safe
and only I have the key.

I have a doppelganger
who, turns up every day,
wears my clothes, walks in my shoes,
drives my car.

My friends all think it’s me,
the real me, but if I dared
to let the real me out,
would they stay?

A Pandora’s Box full of
my deepest, darkest secrets
that, must not be allowed
to break free.

It’s a heavy burden!

I think I’d rather
have a picture,
hidden in the attic. (20 lines)

Isabel Johnstone 2014 ©

A Silent Place

The mist swirls silently around me seeping into my bones.
I stop and listen, but silence surrounds me like an invisible cloak.
I shudder as the seclusion and solitude sinks in.
I have never wanted to be alone, adrift in the sea of my own thoughts,
with time to think on things that I’d rather forget.
Yet, here I am in this silent place, unsure of how I arrived. (6 lines).


Isabel Johnstone 2014 ©

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