Mountains high enough
To shield me from the cold wind
Blowing through my life
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
Tag: cold
Market
Market
From the mouths of children
Breathing white smoke
The chill of the day already
Covered by an invisible cloak
As if filled with tears
The gathering dark clouds
Ready to burst with rain
Over the swelling crowds
Sounds of the street
As day fills with life
Echo in the cold winds
That can slice like a knife
The sonorous voice
Of an eager hawker
Selling his wares as
Patrons offer tender
Bundled citizens hunched over
With faces as red as roses
Braving the bitter cold
With dripping noses
Hirsute dogs straying
Amongst the throng
Looking for scraps
As the day grows long
An alliance of locals
Gather at the tavern
Adopting good humor
As the moon turns silvern
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
Word Prompts:
Fire and Water
Fire and water
We travel through it by far
As much as I douse your flames
You continue to spar
Paralyzed by your words
Cold and cruel, you are an animal
Each one a mind blowing zing
And you claim to be rational
Your criticisms are unfounded
They are unkind and heartless
Where is your filter?
But you proceed regardless
Saying whatever you want
Irrespective of the effect
If I try to distract you
Your voice will inflect
It hurts and you are aware
But it doesn’t stop you
Never apologizing
Your behavior is askew
For the pain you inflict
I don’t know you anymore?
Not recognizing who you’ve become
I feel cut to the core
Our communications escalate
To a level that is dangerous
Your false accusations
Are downright traitorous
You are determined to compete
I have become your arch rival
To you I practice cognitive dissonance
But in reality it is my survival
Christine Bolton
Daily Prompts: