Monday, April 24, 2017

Day 21, 22, and 23 of Poetry Month

I was away on the weekend so I'm catching up here.

Victoria in April

Away from the crowds
of tourists and sight-seers,
the daffodils open.
Magic and rebirth
begin again as April
rests.
The ever expanded sea
of green and fragrance
seeps into the scenery.


© Catherine Woods 2017


Some Future

Long past the days of youth, some
Of us want happy days
To continue on and on, and I
Reach out to stop the sun and put
Myself in the path of the
Everyday people.
Those that are too young to see in
Television screens, their
Future and not the one that everybody expects, but places
You at a crossroads of reality or fantasy, at
A point in space and time you never thought would come to be, the
Future where you had a family and ate meals at the dinner table.

© Catherine Woods 2017


In My Head Are the Silliest Things

As I age,
I remember less and less of what’s important
(like when to pay my Visa bill)
and more the fragments of the youth
(like a phone number or an address of where I lived when I was nine).

© Catherine Woods 2017

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