Blog four: A poem – Surround sound

(Is this what poetry sounds like? Who knows? I am not even sure if this makes any real sense)


Surround sound

Surrounded by sounds of:

Grass gently blowing
in the tenderness of a back door
the whispers of sleeping babies,
hearing a pin drop at 1000 feet
into nothing,
the door-bell chimes powered by
dead batteries,
the goose down feathers hitting
the earth as they fall from
muted migrating geese,
the ear protectors working
overtime in the dead of night,
the smouldering ashes of passion
all around us – drowned out by
the beating of loves
full heart.


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