NaPoWriMo - April 6th

April is National Poetry Writing Month. In celebration of poets everywhere, and to encourage those who are just embarking on their literary journey, I will be posting poetry (not mine) each day for the month of April. Please take a look and enjoy this special art.

Robyn Brown

I am a mother of four, and a grand mother of five. I live in Tasmania Australia and have always loved to write and rhyme. I opened the first poets club in Devonport Tasmania, was great to hear and watch other poets recite there literary art. I have heard on the grapevine that the poets club is no longer open, such a shame. Writing for me has become a helpful tool, where i become the watcher of my own emotions as i create the answers to many issues.

Have you ever woke up and heard a bump in the night...what was that noise?
or seen something out of the corner of your eye?
Many poems are formed from things 'unseen' or things 'not talked about'.
And many are just for fun... so enjoy...:)

Child's Play!

Children play a deadly game of choosing who is boss
Always one that’s left behind, becoming very cross
Shadows stayed and feasted as the day came to an end
Angry thoughts vibrate the host as pay-back time descends
Toss and turn in nightmares grasp, playing sucker to the past
Empty tombs the rich and famous, fields of flowers drooping fast
Manifests a burden of redemption, shown again on close inspection
Within this life of introspection…too communicate a fear
And as the host awakens everything becomes quiet clear

Walking quickly past the playground focused on a waking dream
Sees his friends pick on another, playing boss, there is no team
Demands and orders fill the air above a rising plea
Children stare and slow there pace as the wind uproots a tree
All heads turn towards the boss child to see what he would do
As the wind changed its direction he thought that he would spew
Help the young, a voice commanded, help the small, the voice rang clear
They leave the boss to count his losses as the wind draws very near
Outstretched hand upon a shoulder bended knee upon the ground
A waking dream remembered of when one was lost and then was found
-RB

Cobble Stone Courts

Night after night,
dream after dream.
I go to a place,
that I’ve never been.

How did I get here,
where is this place?
A spark of a memory,
a familiar face.

All feels correct,
a heart-felt embrace.
A feeling of belonging,
within this dreams space.

I notice a dwelling,
that I have seen before.
I know that I am dreaming,
yet see and sense no flaw.

Cobble stone courts,
seats made of stone.
dwellings upon dwellings,
is what I was shown.

On closer inspection,
i spied a small stream.
And as soon as I did,
I awoke from my dream.

Night after night,
dream after dream.
I go to a place,
that I’ve never been.-RB

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