A Poem a Day (227): Dark echo

Dedicated to a friend.

Dark echo

An echo, a repeat, a minor word
Plays in jest to reflect what’s real.

Memory spurred runs rings round us,
Forgets secrets, thunders the obvious,
Tiptoes like a child through our rooms.

Turn on a light so it won’t lose itself,
Write it all down lest you forget.

This stealth intruder sits in a web
Of wires, waits as a spider would,
Buries itself, twists in deep.
 
In the dark the tumour grows quietly,
Stealing words, balance and repose. 

Echoes in this chamber speak fainter.

An artist draws thoughts on the walls,
A surgeon with a scalpel in the scrawl.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 1, 2020

A Poem a Day (219): Rose and thorn

Rose and thorn 

In the never-ever
Of this forgetting time
We perch on spotted mushrooms,
Compare translucent wings
And speak of faery dust.

Neon dragonflies dip
As ivy curves around us,
Silk roses fight thorn tips,
While we inhale this life,
Listen to time and dream.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 23, 2020

A Poem a Day (200): Melody

Melody

She sings the songs of summertime,

Wrapped in honey and essense of lime.

Fresh and unhurried, a hopeful sign

Of fortune in the skies, no crooked dime.

She writes the words of autumntime,

Hums and plucks out this simple rhyme.

The tale of a boy who could only mime

These conversant notes hung on the vine.

She plays the sounds of wintertime,

Silken song of blackbirds in morning shine.

The pine of a girl, an escape from grime,

A nine-lives tale from a long-lost time.

She recalls the images of springtime,

Meadows in bloom, fresh sweet thyme.

A snail’s slow climb exits silver slime,

Hares’ fighting ire amid sunset’s fire.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 5, 2020