Poetry – ShannonRobeck

I Left Roses…

The distance between Your hand in mine and whispered comforts as I cry closed by the touch of a rose hitting hard, smooth wood .. The earth is kissed by roses that will be missed by you
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Personal Library

Photo by Emre Can Acer Black ink bleeding Torn pages turning Pages are crafted with the delicate threads of time As memories float into the air carried along the wind like golden leaves Carefully capture cherished memories and let them take space where no one can be
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Matchstick

Photo by Pixabay. Scratching against the side Your warmth settles in, thawing out the parts I have known to always be a little too cold You scratch into the surface, creating the spaces to Let your light burn, a little too brightly and a little too strongly Leaving your mark like someone leaves a kiss
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Poetry Writing Advice II

Poetry is not Rivers and streams So be careful When writing That you say what you Mean
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Poetry Writing Advice I

Poetry is not A hostage situation So please Don’t hold your words captive To see how many Ink stains you can create Please Try to think Write of your love and hate And remember We create things That mean things From the heart
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Parenting Styles

I remember the feel of the chill air against my arms a fuzzy blue blanket and a little kitty in my lap when I started to wonder teasing my boy for his softness for being a mummy’s boy and maybe society wasn’t all to blame when we decide with even cats what the right gender…
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To My Fur Babies

Slicing through my mind with it’s Softness, I was left Suffocating on the emotions that poured into the Slashes in my mind, holes that numbness had burned in Slowly, slowly, I am brought to the brink of reality Stealing myself the time, stealing for myself is the crime Shadow, my love Sorrow slowly settles in…
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Easy, Tiger

My heart A ball of string Flung, helplessly Between paws with sharp claws
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My Emotions…

My emotions are not the situation My emotions are not the situation My emotions are not the situation
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Beer

My thoughts, a cheap and stale beer With each and every drink My thinking began to change until That cheap and stale beer tasted like Something sweet and summery A taste I savoured on my tongue Much in the same way I cherished the new thoughts at play
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Category: Poetry