What are cruel?

What are hot?

Molten lava bubbling in the middle of a volcano yearning to explode , a warming flame from a flickering campfire in my uncle’s garden, with people standing all around it, on a cold bonfire night and a baby phoenix after alarmingly bursting into flames and rising from the black ashes. 

What are cold?

Parliament Hill Lido after you have been baked in the sun like a fresh loaf of bread whilst lying on the grass, the soul of a wizard after a dementor has sucked all happiness out of them and the taste of a sweet strawberry slushie on a bright, sunny day.

What are cruel?

 When something/one special to you dies, the ***** torturing every innocent Jewish person who has to cross their path and a  shoe slowly lowering down to squash an ant.

What are kind?

A plump old lady who welcomes anyone into her cozy cottage on a stormy winter night, a place to curl up and a soft kitten rubbing itself against your legs.

What are strong?

The beating wings of an angry black dragon, the muscles of a strong man lifting weights at the circus, the crowds screaming in applause and a mind set to do something not caring what other people think about it.

What are weak?

An elderly person with a walking stick stumbling across a zebra crossing muttering under their breath, an ill baby lying on a bed too frail to even cry and a young sapling with drooping leaves.

What are spacious?

A great hall with towering marble pillars, the inside of an egyptian temple with chests of shining diamonds and a private golf court with perfectly mowed grass; not one blade out of line.

What are cramped?

A flat with one room packed with unneeded furniture, a broom cupboard with mops and cleaning supplies jammed in untidily and a head filled with bad memories.

Beyond the Horizon…

I have never flown around the earth with my eyes popping but I have travelled in my dad’s uncomfortable Toyota, with the sun beating down, to my cousins house in the countryside on a hot day.

Caught a ghost at midnight all light blocked by the wispy, grey clouds but I have jumped on the trampoline at full moon with my friend in the freezing cold.

I have never raced across the ice in the Arctic with huskies pulling my sled but

cycled down the cornflake trail, panting, thinking of the sugary sweets I will get as a reward.

I have never befriended a giant, crushing trees and anything unlucky enough to be in its path but I have watched an over-excited dog trampoline over plants.

I have never visited an underwater kingdom with a palace made of glittering shells but I have gone to Hyde Park and looked, in awe, at Buckingham palace.

I have never stroked a bird of paradise while it frolics around but I have touched a soft owl with feathers seeming to melt in my hands.

I have never bowed to a hippogriff and ridden it, its wings beating but I have saddled a cute donkey with a charcoal grey fur clip clopping across a sandy beach.

I have never trekked up the Himalayas, my forehead sweating but I have walked up Parliament Hill on a sunny day.

I have never been able to reach up into the vast, star strewn sky and grasp what is beyond the horizon but I have dreamed and imagined what could be up there deep and black, dense and terrifying.

I want to paint

 An elegant swan gliding across a lake

A dancing angel spinning in the star strewn, midnight sky

A hissing vine snake slyly slithering surreptitiously down the tree

The scent of freshly picked flowers

And a robin frolicking in the snow his scarlet feathers flying out behind it

I want to paint

 A pink blossom tree giving off an auror of fresh fruit

The sunset sinking slowly like a feather, beneath the distant horizon

A golden eagle circling its prey with eyes like a snake and talons like bloody knives

A majestic lion standing on the brink of a cliff with its golden mane flying out behind it

A land beyond all human knowledge

I want to paint

A baby’s first smile

An old man’s last breath

A white bengal tiger looking for a place to rest in the deep jungle

A gazelle galloping gracefully through the Savannah

An armoured elephant lumbering through the grasslands knocking anything in its path

I want to paint a witches cat scavenging the floor for mice

I want to paint a painting of a painting of an eye

I want to paint sleeping fourn with white speckles on its back

I want to paint a wolf with cyan tips on its ears and charcoal grey fur

I want to paint the end of this poem