'Quantity produces quality. If you only write a few things, you're doomed.' Ray Bradbury
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  1. Oh. Wow. Looking for something in my desk, and I found this, from when I was like … five, maybe six. It’s actually quite cute, if embarrassing. :redface:

    Silently

    Silently the nightingale
    Flies above the door,
    Silently the mouse
    Tiptoes across the floor,
    Silently the spider cries,
    While the Eagle soars,
    Silently the deer runs
    Across the grassy moor,
    Silently the caterpillars
    Eat the apple core.


    I’d love to think my writing has improved a little since then:

    Shadows

    Silent shadows set
    The night to moonlit web
    Of dark and light
    Moonbeam mixed with blackness
    Casts net over the ground
    Cuts the virgin snow
    To shreds of black and white.
    Comes out of the greyness
    In between
    Loping, shadowed spectre
    Through the moon-struck silence
    Trotting over trap
    Of jig sawed ground
    From the darkness into darkness
    Lone moon lit shadow.


    (this is from about a year ago, I think. Given up on poetry recently)