Waking to the sounds
Of the bird chorus singing
As a new day starts.
Beautiful blue skies
With the sun glistening bright
Like a big light bulb.
Green grass growing tall
Standing proud to attention
Like a green army.
Blossoming snow drops
A vision of white dancing
Across the forest floor.
little Robins singing nicely
crunchy leafs falling in the Autumn air
pumpkins all around .
Crisp leafs fill the path
concerns bouncing to the ground
pumpkins all over houses
The shed stands
alone as dull
as can be gray,
grizzled.
Vintage door
creaking open
like an old man
with creaky bones.
Tawny,new plant
pot shines in
comparison.
Spiders and insects
make it their
home tickling the
inside.
The mysterious ancient mansion leans
On the Brocken wall crumbling
into pieces and pieces.
The house was as
quiet as a graveyard.
The mansions balcony has graffiti on it.
Moss and leafs were covering the
Ancient,old,haunted mansion.
Leafless trees were covering the Crooked
Horrible horrifying house.
The windows were shattered into crumbs
And the doors were in the windows sticking out
The front door was on the broken stair way.
The wheels are big, googly eyes staring into your soul.
The light is a spindly tarantula, spinning it’s silver silk.
The tyres are like soft, squishy worn out teddys.
The gears are crabs claws clicking away.
The seat is as fragile as a china doll, one touch it will shatter into a million pieces.
The old rustic bike, Leaned against the smooth old tree Draining it’s energy from day to day sadly the tree was not free
The bike Was abandoned Two years ago And now the tree will not grow
The pedals The bell will not move Its all rustic And this bike will never be improved.
You are a bored box
Waiting to be opened on Christmas morning
Filled with terrific toys.
You are a funky flower
Flowing beautifully in the summer breeze
Waiting to be picked by a gorgeous girl.
You are a giggling jolly jelly
Wobbling around on its plate
Dancing around up to down,left to right.
You are a horse proud and strong.
You are the smell of a daisy.
You are a Saturday morning bright and sunny.
You are a number eight curled like a snake.
You are an apple delicious and red.
You are Amesbury filled with people.
You are December cold and exciting to open presents.
You are a banana moon floating in the silent space.
You are a Lingering Lamb, Sitting,remaining and surviving.
You are a humming bird, Singing to make the darkness leave.
Latest Comments