Sonnet
I Am A Star
Introduction This is a sonnet about a star that no one sees. The song is "Star" by Stealers Wheel I Am A Star 🌜⭐🪐🌟🪐⭐🌛 Adrift In This Vast Black Cosmic Void From A Bright Constellation So Far I Am Not A Comet Or Asteroid I Am Here To Tell I Am A Star 🌜🌟🌛 I Have Wandered Through The Milky Way Between Black Holes And Dwarfs. Red And White I'm Always Moving, I Will Not Stay I Will Bathe You In My Bright Starlight 🌜🌟🌛 I Have Seen The Horse Head Nebula Darkness Of Space, The Blackness Of Night I Will Always Be The Brightest Star Like A Million Suns, I'm That Bright 🌜🌟🌛 You' May See Me As I Fly So Far I Have No Doubt, I Am A True Star 🌜⭐🪐🌟🪐⭐🌛
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 months ago in Poets
I Don't Wanna Be Nice. Content Warning.
Introduction Armed with "Ten Years In An Open Necked Shirt", I have stolen lines from the poems of John Cooper Clarke to weave this masterpiece. The platform has made it clear that I cannot write poetry (in their misinformed opinion), so I am taking the words of a real, recognised poet, The Bard Of Salford.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 months ago in Poets
Guardian Angel
Introduction This is a sonnet about looking out for someone who means a lot to you. Guardian Angel 🧚♀️🧚♂️♎💜♉🧚♂️🧚♀️🧚 I Am Your Guardian Angel I'll Always Keep You Safe From Harm On Those Days That The Cold Snow Fell I Was The One Who Kept You Warm 🧚♂️ I'll Be The One To Calm Your Fears I'm Standing Always By Your Side Wiping Away Any Sad Tears To Make You Forget That You Cried 🧚♂️ I Will Always Be Close to You To Hold You When You Need A Hug Together We Are Always True That's How We Always Show Our Love 🧚♂️ Always I'll Be Sure You Are Well I Am Your Guardian Angel 🧚🧚♀️🧚♂️♎💜♉🧚♂️🧚♀️🧚
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 months ago in Poets
The Last Letter
The Empty Mailbox Every day at 3:00 PM, Mrs. Eleanor Whitlock walked to her mailbox. Rain or shine, winter or summer, she made the same slow journey down her creaky porch steps, her arthritic fingers gripping the railing for support. For fifty-three years, she had done this—ever since her husband, Thomas, had been deployed to Vietnam. Back then, letters were her lifeline. Thomas wrote to her every week without fail, his messy handwriting filling pages with stories about his fellow soldiers, the unbearable heat, and how much he missed her apple pie. However, the most recent letter she received from him arrived on a Tuesday. "If you’re reading this, my love, I didn’t make it home." The military confirmed his death two weeks later.
By Silas Blackwood9 months ago in Poets
