Filed under: Poetry
Drop the pen and put on your armour,
There’s enough been spilled for one day,
Judgment on your works will follow,
And jealous will sharpen their tongues.
The memories of youth are leaving
A bitter taste in your mouth now,
Knowing that you can’t turn back time,
And that your heart lacks fire.
The naive eyes that watched your childhood
Are gone like so many things you take for granted,
And you will allow your thoughts to slowly wilt,
Until your mind has gone,
And a body is all that is left.
Zoë Campbell, 16/02/07 revised: 30/04/08
Filed under: Poetry
The crackling flames of the fire warm me,
Golden, yellow, orange and red,
As I stare at it glowing I find it relaxing,
In this darkened room with the floor as my bed,
I fetch myself a blanket for comfort,
I drape it around my contented body,
I place a pillow on the floor,
And there I rest my sleepy head,
Fixated on the embers my eyes grow weary,
And my mind becomes submersed in glorious scenes,
Where I find myself in deserted beaches wandering
Sun-kissed and free in my enchanted dreams.
Zoë Campbell, 05/02/07
Filed under: Poetry
Looking at the shore,
Way down on the tall cliff floor,
Free falling I’ll feel alive,
I spread my wings and dive.
Zoë Campbell, 29/12/05
About this poem:
For some reason, when I read this poem, I always imagine Neo from ‘The Matrix’ standing at the top of the White Cliffs of Dover then spreading his arms out to the side and diving off. He never hits the ground.
