MichaelA

A Collection of Poetry

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The Lake It glitters like gold Tons of memories As vivid as a lemon's taste But it isn't sour Blue grass, pink leaves Imaginations spark to life Like an old locomotive, Waiting to be discovered Silent and swirling rhinos, in the sky The fast moving cotton balls can be anything You feel the wood moving quickly underneath you, Nothing The liquid laps and pushes away, And then engulfs you as the cannonball sinks

Down, Down, Down

The truth isn't a rumor The rumor seeps through the crowds, Like an angry tidal wave, wreaking havoc through the city The truth is a secret And should be kept and loved like a toy Secrets are locked up with friends, This is a tough safe to crack the code If any secrets escape, they're not a friend, But a faulty safe with a broken lock.

It makes you terribly depressed, Like when your doll's button eyes fall off The truth is told And shouldn't be lied about The securities of truths touch hearts, And the insecurities of lies bring others down.

Never trust a liar, They are like witches, Who cackle cruelly behind your back Liars are as trustworthy as your lazy pet dog Liars are not close to being honest Liars don’t like themselves, Like a tree, Who wants to have a different body Don't be the lie, That can tear down mountains, Be the truth that people can trust and grasp, For a lifetime

The Sand Dweller Crunching through the dried up bushes Eliciting a swirly trail in the dunes His tail is not a baby toy The fork slips in and out of his mouth The design looks like a swirling illusion His eyes are like daggers that pierce through you No ears or legs His shape is ever-changing Floats on the sand Like a ship in the sea Lives in the landscape that never sleeps Sifting, sifting, sifting Protective armor to protect his face If you here the warning, run away It's not an excited, minuscule infant, But a threatened creature Who am I? Who am I?

Answer to Sand Dweller: Rattlesnake

Changes The dead have fallen from their branches The stragglers rock to the gravel beneath Like a sheet of paper tumbling to the ground Blood red, And Lemon yellow Sport seasons have been terminated Days get shorter And the eerie nights are longer The chill swirls through the air Nipping at any exposed skin Grizzly bears go to sleep after killing, the season's last salmon The sweet smell of cookies And a crackling fire in the night I rush through the forest, Pushing shrubs out of way Stumbling up the porch Almost slipping on my face The smell is ever-present I opened the freezing doorknob, And toss an oozing cookie in my hands The sweet treat defrosts my fingers Like the wings of a glorious and freezing airliner My feet are coated in slushy snow, And I rush over to the pine fire, Crackling in the shivering night I wiggle my toes and come back to the warm world Ah, When Fall turns into Winter