Every Word~

Emotions of the past scrawled out in a poem about change. 
This poem is old, but I haven't posted any poetry in ages! So I'm going back through my schoolwork to find some... I'm going to get to writing again this Spring/Summer. Some stuff that isn't so dismal...

She reached into her pocket

And withdrew a dream.

And as she brought it out,

She too withdrew, it seemed

From things that were no more,

And now would never be:

Clenched within a resolved fist,

Setting her soon free.

Cast unto the burning flames

Consuming care-worn note,

Every bit removed forever...

Every word he wrote. 

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2013

Something~

Something breath-taking...

The sight of dawn-

Rising and spreading,

Then suddenly gone.

Bright as a wedding,

Soft as a babe's yawn.

Color and splendor...

Then suddenly wan. 

Something inspiring...

A tug at my soul-

Dares me aim high,

To pursue some goal.

Bids me comply

To that sweet cajole,

Urging me onward,

Fanning the coal.

Something eye-opening...

Giving me sight-

Restoring to me

The lack of clear light;

Helps me to see

What is deemed right.

For justice and freedom,

Urges me fight.

Something restoring...

Makes me anew-

Revives in the sky

The blissful blue.

Presents an ally

Faithful and true.

Revives my sad heart,

Helps me pull through. 

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2013

Coming Spring~

Cover photography by my sister, Emma Catherine Smith.

She is the delicate little flower

Encircling her wicker bower,

A weaving, searching, climbing tower

Seeking to reach high.

She is the song the peepers sing,

The pond alive as echoes ring.

The songbirds which again take wing

And dance along the sky.

She is the scent of sodden earth,

Plants and creatures given birth,

Beauty and newness well beyond worth,

Bidding Cold farewell. 

She is the wind beneath the flight

Of returning geese with feathers white,

The soothing healer of Winter's bite,

The color of the bluebell. 

She is the whisper of new life,

Repeller of Frost's chilling knife,

To end the bleak, unceasing strife,

The voice of all who sing.

She is the fragrance in the air,

The answer to the desperate prayer

Of those longing for the weather fair...

She is the coming Spring.

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2013