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Daily Archives: March 9, 2016

And here I am – Promote Yourself

dovefly

Shall I will I ever have a chance to be freed
That’s, only when my wings I need to spread

You put me one day in a cage
Can’t you see me today that I age?
Can’t you see me that I am weeping?
Can’t you see me that I am bleeding?

That day going my way straight to my fate
That I used to be free before t’was too late
Then I was nattering in my joy and glee
With No motive for my killing spree
Spending my joy from tree to tree
Having no foe, nor a prey I was to be
Safe that my carol of joy betrayed me
I was caught In a dream-catcher net
It was a gloomy day, that’s Ô! My fate
Mother Nature comes to me, ready set to rejoice
Full of fun, laughing of plenty to hear my voice
For, You don’t know why I sing, ah! me
It was the first day of Spring, for me
It’s only now but a prayer, from the bottom of my heart I sing
but a plea wish you hear me, that upward to Heaven I fling
That one day  you may let me free, before it was too late
It’s only Poetry, a lady  she knows before me, that said:

_Kalimelo

I know why The Caged Birds sing, ah me,
when his wing is bruised and his bosom sore
when he hit the bars, and would be free;
it is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his hearth’s deep core,
but a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings
I know why the caged bird sings_Maya Angelou

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Know_Why_the_Caged_Bird_Sings

The Hermit – Promote Yourself

 
bud
 

The dream was simple

With a hint of something

Gloomier:

A shaky apprehension

Threatening to shatter

The illusion.

In the summer sun, anything

Seemed possible;

Even the crazy – turning

From a hermit sheltering in

A secluded corner

Of an empty beach

To a fully-fledged adventurer

Going where? Leaving when?

Who could tell?

A loner in the wind.

The crab listened with interest

To suggestions,

Fired from all angles,

Took new ideas on board, however

Out of character they seemed.

A claw dug through the sand

That was its shelter

And with intention,

Slow but deliberate,

The hermit followed.

The world outside beckoned

To it, calling

Attention to future possibilities;

So it scuttled away to discover

What the shelter

Could not teach it

On that little beach where it hid;

Plunging into the ocean, it made

The first step out

To sea, to the world beyond

Its protective shelter,

Where brand new memories

Waited to be found.

© Laura Marie Clark

Laura is from England, UK. “The Hermit” is an excerpt from her first book of poems, “City of the World”.

http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/laura-marie-clark.html  

https://inspiredstoriesandpoems.wordpress.com/

Thank you for considering featuring my poetry,
Laura Marie Clark
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