A house mouse squeaks under the heavy wardrobe crumbs are falling from grandpa’s black pipe the ice cream got dry in the compote bowl my clock lags behind with a couple of polar nights not I I didn’t care for old things and I seldom dreamed to taste carob beans to my heart’s content rag dolls don’t smile but they laugh their mouth stretched double stitched with thread I it is a too big word for a three years old child I forgot three years ago how many things I loved in this world I don’t forgive what’s left for me now that circle of life vanished under my eyelids traveling stars are racing amid my lungs’ breathing cells before falling asleep it gets always cold the postman rings the way he did when I lost my address where the world has forgotten me this is something new the history still repeating itself in place of the best gift
I am from Romania, I write poems and haiku and sometimes I translate them into English. My poems and haiku were published in various e-zines or poetry journals and magazines in print in Romania or abroad. Poetry is for me like champagne poured in a mug. I discovered this site and I can say that I found many good poems here.
Little yellow wings creature, bright just like sun shine of nature, come out of its safest zone, to see the world on its own. Amazed to see tall buildings, glass flowers and iron trees blinking, then It seems hungry at
Butterfly as a whisper comes around for a little child happiness is found, he sees a colorful art of life. She stays near the child not afraid of being burnt by the desire. Is it a candle or a child?
I am beautiful like a butterfly. Such lovely wings I have, I love the sky. I am so lovely, aren’t I? Wherever I go, heads twirl and gazes follow me. No one can ignore me I am a beautiful girl.
A waft of misty enchantment, Created a magic in the air, A butterfly unfolded its wings, Kissed a beautiful flower, She gracefully opened her petals, Giving in to its gentle embrace, Surrendering itself in abandoned joy, Gifting its nectar of
On a bright summer afternoon, Sometime around July I saw something like a cocoon, About to be a butterfly At the break of the night, On the 16th day It took its first flight, Towards the skies far away With
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