Pumpkin Soup - Tyburn Poem

Soft,

smooth,

salty,

sweet.

I'll smash my pumpkin to soft smooth gloop.

Salty cheese will balance my sweet soup. 

Sunrise - Description

My magical moment was about to begin. Lovely lilac light and radiant rose-gold shades started to stain the gentle blue sky. 

The sun ascended in slow motion, emitting rays of brilliance and beauty to all of us. My camera could not capture this bright white sun, speeding down to Mother Earth in eight minutes. My photograph morphed into a mega pixelated, and minging mess. Unfortunately, it was not a fine tribute to the magnificent sunrise I witnessed today. 

On reflection, a poignant poem may have befitted this event more nicely than my puny photograph. Oh well. At least mother earth will bless me with other stunning sunrises to admire.

Your Mind by Ishita Nadipalli

One’s mind is like a void,

With thoughts both beautiful and dangerous

Like powers once deployed,

You can do anything you crave to plus

All dreams will feel so real,

How phenomenal are illusions?

The freedom you can feel,

Imagination in a fusion

But the greatest place of all,

Is where you’re known and loved

Where someone helps you when you fall,

This home you hold beloved

There will never be a match,

To dear and classic reality

It’s a rare find it’s a catch,

But of course that’s your speciality

Imagine ‘til you tire,

There’s only one place you’ll desire

Daydream hours away,

But there’s one place that will stay

Think and think without a wink,

Inside your heart it’s scrawled in ink

The only place you’ll truly need,

Is the true world.

My Glossy Green Cycle Cruise - Poem

 

I revved up my glossy green motor,

ready to run my usual rota.

I sped along in delirium and delight.

My jumpsuit felt lovely and light.

I felt I could gallop from dusk to dawn,

as unbridled as a Unicorn,

without my heavy clothes and school’s safety rules,

that wear me down like whizzing whirlpools.

The air rippled my jumpsuit and ruffled my hair.

Still, I rallied on without a worry or care.

I whooped and whistled as loudly as a lark.

This flight beats last year’s trudge round Central Park!

Aspects of Autumn - Haiku

Leaves float in the wind,

as rich as an orange rind.

It cleanses my mind.

They fall to the ground.

Squirrels spot a lone leaf mound,

with soft scraping sounds.

They dig mound till dawn.

And before they yearn and yawn,

Hoy look, an acorn!

They leapt up in joy.

A fine feast follows oh boy!

thanks to their great ploy.