Me :)

Walking

Walking, into the wind again
Blowing, my hair in directions
Exposing my eyes to the

Grey and the cold
The faceless, the nameless
The street dust it swirls on the ground, and its not with a

Concious thought that I keep walking
It's functional, saving me from
Having nothing to do

And I'm sick at the thought
Of the next 13 hours
Drawing closer to distances further from you.

wolf

never did something so pretty turn so empty and pale
the space between us remains the same, but changed in nature
its thick and viscous. without gravity.
i move slowly.

The Wren

Dusty heeled, the fairy queen skips softly down the way
Brilliant white, her skirts do brush the grasses as they sway
Her fingers shine with pearls and gold and other sparkling things
The golden nest upon her head does hide a ribbon in

‘Along along’ she sings ‘Do, come and follow me my friends’
‘The little bees, the butterflies, the rabbits and the wrens’
‘We’ll go to magic places and we’ll dance around and round’
‘We needn’t fear the world, there’s not a chance we shall be found’

‘Well, what a charming sprite!’ said bee ‘All beauty and all grace’
‘That shining hair’ cooed rabbit ‘And that pale exquisite face’
‘Lets follow friends’ they all agreed ‘She can mean us no ill’
And so they wandered off the path and over shadowed hill

For miles and miles they seemed to dance until they reached a glen
The moon was somehow not so bright here, thought the little wren
And things are all so silent now what happened to the breeze
The trees they did not chatter, and wren felt ill at ease

‘Perhaps’ stopped wren ‘It’s best if we did turn about to home’
But as he spoke he realised he was standing quite alone
‘Friends?!’ he called ‘Where are you? Please, I beg return to me!’
But his reply was just the dark and looming of the trees

He flew to tree and tucked himself against a branch quite small
But as the darkness grew he ceased to feel the branch at all
He couldn’t see or feel, and tried to call but made no sound
And in the dark and silence was the wren eternally bound

The moral is my friends, be wary of the things that shine
Demons are persuasive, from behind a mask divine
And if you feel much sorrow at the fate of little wren
Stay upon a path that’s true, don’t deviate to glen