I MUST SLEEP

I’ve fallen

to the depths

of my despair.

I must rest and

replenish my spirit,

revitalize my soul.

I will stand,

climb once more,

try to resume my life.

But first, I must sleep.

A PRAYER FOR ME

A casualty of war.

A casualty of nature.

Sad.

Alone.

Drifting.

Broken.

Silenced forever.

Say a prayer for me.

THE FALLEN

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

 THE FALLEN

Tree branches bend,

scarred by age.

Beaten by the storm,

many hit the ground

amid piles of leaves.

Without a proper burial,

no one mourns their loss.

The fallen won’t be forgotten

as replacements take root

in the shade of the tall trees.

Sunshine filters through the forest,

lighting the way for the future.

THE FALLEN

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

 

The trees have been hurt,

Scarred by the recent storm.

Their leaves have fallen,

Fallen soldiers of nature’s war.

Without a proper burial,

No one will mourn for them.

New leaves will soon sprout

And take their place.

The cycle will continue

Through time and space.

THE MIGHTY FALL

ourperfectearthDeactivated

Collapsing Giants. Greenland. [1080x108] Photo by Daniel Kordan

The mighty now fall

Who had been so tall.

Melting to the sea,

Where no one can see

The majesty of your height

Or the last breath of your fight.

Please don’t leave us now.

Don’t take your last bow.

The earth will be a sadder place

Without your bright and shiny face.

THE DICTATES OF OLD MAN WINTER

flowersgardenlove:


The epic battle of the seasons.
Old man winter tries to
erase all signs of Fall.
He covers the ground
with his icy cold snow.
But Fall holds her leaves close
to her body and her heart.
Some have fallen,
lone casualties of war.
The battle rages
on the ground,
in the air,
and in the water.
Fall will have to succumb
to the dictates of Old man winter.
She has no choice.
But she puts up a valiant battle.
She will be back after Summer
finishes heating the earth.
Farewell.
We’ll see you soon.

THE FALLEN

ominousraincloud:

Sherbrooke Forest | By Penny Whetton

The tree has been hurt.
Scarred by the storm.
Its leaves have fallen.
Fallen soldiers of war.
Without a proper burial.
Who will mourn them?
The fallen of nature.
The tree will mourn
their loss.
Until new leaves sprout
to take their place.
And the cycle continues.

THE HAUNTED HOUSE

Creepy house.
Dark and deserted.
Overgrown lawn.
Wind rustling through
the fallen leaves.
Total quiet.
No footsteps or
sounds of life.
That’s how I like it:
the creepier the better.