Tag: poem

Busker

 

Haunting sounds.

Accordion plays

minor tones,

singing soft

with melancholic stanzas;

I hold back the tears.

 

by Scooj

Not holding my breath

 

Parts of the country

prepare for a wintry storm;

not expected here.

 

by Scooj

Island

 

Creativity

marooned, shipwrecked in my head

no means of escape.

 

by Scooj

 

Home improvements

 

Nothing is

where it ought to be;

upside down,

chaotic,

it could be some time before

normal life resumes.

 

by Scooj

Cornice

.

Sweet imperfection

unnoticed until noticed

then forever seen.

.

by Scooj

Branch line

.

Sleepy commuters

update their Facebook pages

and their Twitter feeds.

.

by Scooj

Old timer

 

I count them in and

then I count them out; I am

an ever-present.

 

by Scooj

Lath and plaster

 

Grey plaster-dust clouds

meander throughout the house;

choking atmosphere.

 

by Scooj

Dethroned

 

The smallest room yields

to the expanding kitchen;

more home improvements.

 

by Scooj.

 

The smallest room, Haiku
The smallest room, Haiku

Painting the ceiling

 

Why don’t we simply

pay for a professional

to suffer for us?

 

by Scooj