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You are the beginning

You are a raw egg,

getting cracked into a bowl,

and boiled in a pan.

 

You are laughing lion,

chuckling at all the birds,

that go by.

 

You are the smell of a forest fire,

killing all the nature.

 

You are the sound of thunder,

lining up after lightning.

 

You are the memory of my first pet,

cuddly, soft and playful

 

You are the distance between,

love and hate.

 

You are the beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Wind

You are a ripe apple ready to be eaten.

You are a winding staircase with no end.

You are an Oak tree blowing in the frosty wind.

You are the wicked wind navigating your way through plants.

You are a hairy tarantula sneaking through your web.

You are a slow slug slavishly making your way up the path.

What are you? By Bethan

What are you?

You are a colourful bird fluttering it’s beautiful wings in the air,
like a peaceful bulldog roaming around.

You are a meaningful, cracked mirror,
haunting and cursing me for seven long years.

You are the smell of grapefruit,
stuck in the abyss of the teachers pocket.

You are a cold fire freezing the Earth,
as if the ice age is happening again.

You are nothing.