A Poet’s Paper Plane
I am soaring yet my feet are on the ground
I am flying yet on the earth I’m found
I am free yet on turf I remain
I am sending the world a plane.
Written on it is a piece of me...
Message in a Bottle
I pass my message of glass to her outstretched palm,
And with a soothing swoosh she steers the shards away.
Her hands are the last to embrace the weight of my words,
Her tears the last to trickle down the torn pages...
Message in a bottle
The hands of the waves carry my bottle
Pass it through the sea at full throttle
The ocean sings my message out loud
And gathers the plaice in a crowd
You can hear it from the shore...
My Paper Plane
Amongst the clouds of white,
My paper plane fights the strong winds of my words,
They try to drag my plane to the ground.
The heaviness of them is hard to fight.
But my plane flies on...