Sandstorm
16 Friday Oct 2015
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16 Friday Oct 2015
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15 Thursday Oct 2015
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13 Tuesday Oct 2015
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12 Monday Oct 2015
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09 Friday Oct 2015
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07 Wednesday Oct 2015
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05 Monday Oct 2015
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This is the oak under which I sit,
When I contemplate the world a bit.
I watch the people passing by,
Look for emotions I can identify.
Guess their jobs, their hopes, their dreams,
Speculate about their plans and schemes.
On days when I find myself alone,
I cogitate on plans of my very own.
The lampost somehow illuminates,
For me, both past and future dates.
It literally sheds light on the park and me,
But metaphorically, also, my history.
The past has made me who I am,
Like some complicated diagram.
Yet as I sit here I can choose
How I cut my jib and wear my shoes.
The world’s my oyster on this bench,
I want to grasp it, I’ve got a thirst to quench!
© Caro Ness 2015
02 Friday Oct 2015
Posted in poetry
01 Thursday Oct 2015
Posted in poetry
30 Wednesday Sep 2015
Posted in poetry
The world was peaceful,
The water smooth,
As the sun set in the bay.
Not a breath of wind,
Not a leaf rustling,
As the sun set in the bay.
Birds had flown home to roost,
And silence prevailed,
As the sun set in the bay.
A feeling of peace descended,
All was calm, still,
As the sun set in the bay.
© Caro Ness 2015