Final Orchestra (Prose)

Swallow me whole ~ symphony of thunderstorms
break the sky with snare drums
the utterance of the approaching squall
cymbals illuminate clouds of darkness
piccolos the shooting stars
that beckons us to other lands

Let me ride ~ the crest of cellos
rain filled, before they burst
tempting parched and broken ground
when my time comes I’ll rest ‘neath harps
tranquil in the angels hands and
eyes will close to the refrain of violins

©jmtacken Jan 2014

hopefully my poetic muse is finding her way back home

Brumbies who feel the storm – Poetry

Gossamer circles hang on limb

broken only by the gust of wind

stirred from skies and plunges deep

skies of black and restless sleep

Brumbies stir and gallop up hills

steep their climb strong of will

light from stars bathe the ground

grass is black for miles around

Lightning breaks the darkness still

zig zagged lights across the hill

thunder rumbles high in these skies

brumbies pack warning danger is nigh

Leader heads them up the hills

others follow at their will

strong of legs they carry on

out of the darkness from the storm

Strength of legs and hooves on earth

in this land that gave them birth

frightened with ears back they forge

over rocks and over gorge

Elements faced in open land

together they run no time to stand

thunder roars its frightening noise

brumbies tense calmness destroyed

Shelter as the lighting cracks

rain falls they group in their plight

herd of brumbies with stallion black

black as this night as they take flight

Storm it passes and all is still

brumbies rest shake off the chill

regroup they stand with nostrils flared

none of them harmed each one was spared

Credit 123rf

Listen (Part 2) Poetry

Listen to the morning birds with their wake up song

Listen to the footsteps in the house where you belong

Listen to the new borns as they utter their first sounds

Listen to the children’s laughter ringing through playgrounds

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the anger in the voices in a fight

Listen to thunder as it cracks on stormy nights

Listen to the people having conversations nearby

Listen to the whirring fans on ceilings way up high

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the sounds of hooves galloping on the ground

Listen to the lost shelter pups crying to be found

Listen to the man as he whistles his tune

Listen to the clink of your knife and spoon

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the waterfalls that flow from rocks above

Listen to the cooing of the released caged white dove

Listen to the whispers of children out at play

Listen to the elderly and what they have to say

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the waves as they tumble to the shore

Listen to the high heel shoes step across the floor

Listen to the pelting rain upon an iron shed

Listen to the winds blow strong when your warm in bed

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the band you love sing your favourite song

Listen to the keyboard click when your typing all day long

Listen to the crackling of wood burning in the fires

Listen to the breath inhaled and listen when it expires

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to your heart beat strong beneath your chest

Listen to when someone speaks, that their life is in a mess

Listen to the child that says that they feel pain

Listen to the teenager who wants to come home again

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the bubbles in an effervescent drink

Listen to the water drip into the kitchen sink

Listen to the kittens as they softly purr

Listen to the shoes of a flamenco dancer

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the one you love when they have something to say

Listen to the friends you have and laugh with them each day

Listen to the abused animals who haven’t got a voice

Listen to the sadness of others so that one day they may rejoice

Listening… A simple thing we take for granted.. sometimes we hear but do we always listen

To write or not to Write…Reposted..from my 1st blog.. interesting to see where it lead

Yes writers the stamp of approval that we have been acknowledged, someone who doesn’t know us from a bar of soap appreciates our work and likes what we have written. With manuscripts I have forwarded, my letterbox strolls (to find acceptance) have come to nought.

I was mowing the lawns this afternoon (l know you wont find that mind-boggling) & I wanted to write, I moved onto weeding, I still wanted to write. Started to replant a gardenia bush, still wanted to write. It ‘the writing obsession’ wouldn’t leave me alone. In fact it hasn’t for some weeks now. It’s a calling, something unknown with long arms & sinewy fingers that grab hold of me & lure me into the study to turn on my Mac & say, “Now write”. (Maybe not long arms and sinewy fingers, perhaps a bit of over-kill there, but then that’s the writer in me). I try to resist (as I really wanted to get the gardenia bush planted whilst we are in Autumn) but it was no use denying it any further. So I sat at my desk and stared at the blank document page and prayed for inspiration (not literally).

Perhaps I should write just about me, my thoughts (I can see you all cringing, please don’t it shouldn’t be that bad).  Would anyone be interested in reading my dribble or would they find it amusing? Thought provoking? Would they relate to what I have written and me?

Who knows, I can’t be the judge only the person who is reading this can be. I know when I have read a book & if the author’s style is down to earth and open, I relate to it, it  draws me in even further.

I simply like that style of writing. Writing does require talent, imagination and creativity. Can we say that because l am an ‘unknown’ (apart from to my friends and family of course) that people wouldn’t enjoy or want to read what l have written? This is the uncertainty.

It’s all getting a tad in depth now isn’t it? Maybe I should refrain from over analysing and just do what I came in here to do and write. Sometimes I shall do that, I have the intention of writing something light hearted & before I know it the million words that consume my head space want to say something deep and meaningful…let’s see where it ends…