Poetry

Quick Dash

I canter, I glide,

run away with the tide.

 

I frolic, I flee,

scramble up an oak tree.

 

I weave, I skate,

along the frozen lake.

 

I stumble, I fall,

become a great ball.

 

I roll, I turn,

will I ever learn?

 

I collide, I crash,

what a euphoric dash!

 

I stand, I face,

life at my own pace.

Poetry

Space Hopper

If I had seven league boots,

I’d travel up to the stars.

 

If I had three point five league boots,

I’d travel to the highest mountains.

 

If I had one league boots,

I’d travel to every lush space I could find.

 

I am barefoot.

 

I can travel only until I get tired.

But there’s nothing to stop me believing

 

I have seven league boots.

Poetry

See From Above

If your view is clouded, obstructed

or you are simply tired of looking,

climb up

so that all the things you fear

and feel are so big they cannot be ignored

become little more than figurines and building blocks,

a child’s game of heroes and villains

where a gentle flick

is all it takes to knock the bad guys to the ground

and a shuffle and re-stacking of pieces

can rebuild what’s been broken.

Poetry

Who you really are

I want to climb to the stars,

feel the roar

of ovation in my ears.

Let euphoria take over

as my body balances

on the point of a needle

as it sways back and forth across the dial.

Precarious. Rash. Bold.

I am all these things.

As I wake,

I sink my hands

into my jarring heart

and replace the bent, broken cogs

with new ones.