I would take the sound of
the wind whistling
the rumblle of thunder
the bang of a door
i would take the touch of
the almighty dragon breathing fire
a wizard that grants you wishis
a golden griffin spying for pray
i would take the tast of
pizza running into my mouth
ice cream throwing it self into my throught
that is colder than the wind
i would take the smell of
a griffin that can smell far beyond the earth
a dragon that can smell the fear of villigers
a golden griffin spying for pray
Trough the ruby door
Mad,red eyed people stared at me angrily
Roses petals tickled me
As my heart broke.
Trough the cyan door
I saw an ocean of tears
Waving at me
Smiling sadly.
Trough the violent door
Wine smelt like lavenderh
As fresh plums dropped into the
Happy dog’s mouth.
Through the door of terror,
Spiders awaited.
Through the door of happiness,,
children ate warm ice cream.
Through the door of Joy,
there was never ending
Hand gel so covid never
got in.
Through the door of worries,
No fear came out or in.
Through the door of love,
Every kid cuddled.
Through the door of sweatyness,
A cold fire awaited. The fire snapped and cracked.
Through the door of bombs,
World war 1 took part.
Through the cyan door
a cobalt Whale swam
directly at me. While
the waves splashed
silently in the aqua sea.
Colour poems
Through the crimson door
there is blood dripping demonically next to corpses
rotting in decaying death.
Through the cerulean door
there is a sea of sadness
and rain trickling down your face.
Through the ivory door
there is a mountain of snow
jolting towards the vulnerable city.
Through the graphite door
there are stacks of stones sitting still
and ash dancing round the room.
Through the shamrock door
there are millions of emeralds
reflecting light onto the mossy cave walls.
In the room of football,
I heard a distant sound of crowds cheering.
In the room of silence,
not a sound could be heard.
In the room of music,
Symbols crashed in time with drums.
As I walked into the room of time travel,
I was whisked into the tudor era.
In the room of pesky pigeons,
They flew away like kites in the wind
In the room of books I read.
In the room of eyes I looked around.
In the room of tables I placed my stuff on it.
In the room of hair brushes I brushed my hair.
in the room of bowls I poured my soup inside.
In the room of pillows I placed my head on it.
In the room of trees a leave would slowly float down to surface.
In the room of rule an line would be made.
In the classroom of cats,
The books pounced on the knowledge darting around the classroom.
All the chairs danced around the room cheerfully.
The class clocks meowed menacingly while licking their paws, which pointed to the wiggly whiskers of time.
The pencils pounced onto the plain, purring paper,
Writing a TAIL of the wild wonderful adventures of the courageous cat.
Professor Paws dismissed the class,
As the banging bell hissed signalling the lesson was over
For the classroom of cats.
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