Category: Poetry-Thing Thursday

Anything rhythmically or structurally varied from general fiction.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Take My Hand

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Take my hand.
Walk with me.
We’ll follow the sunset,
all the way to the sea.

And there we will sit,
and long reminisce,
about lovers and lives long-passed,
and the hope of future-bliss.

So when next the sun rises,
and you and I part,
we leave without sorrow,
however heavier of heart.

Because choices are infinite,
but decisions too few,
perhaps for us both,
it’ll be “if only you knew.”

But I do know one thing,
this I can’t deny,
that in my heart I’ll keep you,
if the stars I must defy.

And through ages to come,
and those that have passed,
I’ll know I’m not the only one,
with such feelings that last.

That is, only if,
you take my hand,
and hold it with yours,
so together we stand.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: A Mourning Dove

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

I heard the cry,
of a mourning dove.
It cooed a message,
that it’d been sent,
“from up above.”

Even then,
I did not believe it.
But you can,
if you see fit.
I can’t tell you,
what to do or quit.
Just remember:
it’s your life
and all you’re sure to get.

I heard the song,
of a newfound voice,
it said to believe,
that I’d been given choice.

Even then,
I sensed its deception,
and indeed,
found need for correction,
for there is no-one and nothing,
giving nor taking direction,
but if you believe otherwise,
please consider always your affection.

I saw the rays,
of a freshly-risen sun,
and felt its warmth,
through-out my frigid days.

And I did believe,
for it I could see,
and in it, taste glee,
for it, world, seeks not to deceive.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Only One Wish

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Sniffing and sniffing and sniffing the room.
I lurk amid shadows planning your doom.
I circle and sniff and position myself right,
to take you down with the least bit of fight.

For I may be cunning,
and quick just as lightning ,
but I wish for only one thing,
and that is control.

Prowling and stalking and preying I go,
hoping you’ll accept what we both may know,
that soon enough I’ll swallow you down,
and in my guts you’re sure to drown.

For I may be vicious,
and cruel as cold death,
but I wish for one thing,
and that’s to be fed.

Round and round and round I go,
when I will stop, nobody can know,
I’m millions of years of instinct,
a creature discerning, distinguished, distinct.

For I am merciless,
and do love to kill,
for little else but,
the passionate thrill.
Still, I’ve only one wish,
to eat when I will,
so could you please,
my bowl, fill?

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Losing The Moon

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

I read in a letter,
that you’d taken to madness,
isolated yourself,
and carved a hole into your life.

I’d figured it out,
but you wouldn’t take my call,
figured you’d had doubts,
about me and the others.

Maybe I’m wrong,
but this silence is cold,
and darkness endless, abundant–
especially for those carved out.

So I wrote you a letter,
and I paid you respect,
in both greeting and closing,
knowing you’d never read it

but just in case,
here’s the gist:
You’re not alone
and we can throw you a bone,
or if you find need,
a lead.

Whatever it be,
tell us please, soon.
We’re nearly out of time,
and you’re losing the moon.