Young Writers Society

soak me in

When rain kisses the grass

with a love so gentle and feared

does it grieve its own past

and fill the clouds with tears?

Does it soak in the moments

when it feels it unworthy of love?

Or does it think its tears are a gift,

coming solely from up above?

When the quiet is disrupted

as the earth soaks in the rain

does it feel any remorse

when it thinks the love is in vain?

Please soak me in,

with a gentle, beating heart.

I can't handle much more,

but your love is a start.

I am much more than the rain,

as my eyes hold much more water,

so when you embrace,

I hope my love doesn't falter.

flamingo

I have pruned myself to perfection.

'And what is perfection?' you ask.

Perfection is tough,

and filled with grit,

and it doesn't shatter,

like glass.

I have pruned myself to fruition.

'What is fruition?' you ponder.

Fruition is sweet,

and does not miss a beat,

and it provides much more than water.

I have pruned myself 'till I'm salmon.

Ask me, 'What makes you have such a hue?'

Well, my sweet, feathered friend,

I am only pink from you.

Sunset

Remember when it rained?

When the earth felt frozen solid?

Remember?

Remember?

Remember when I laid?

On the ground?

Until the cold earth grew hotter?

Remember?

Remember?

Remember when the sun came?

When the clouds left?

When the world swayed?

Remember?

Remember?

Remember when the sun set?

When we felt warm?

When I left?

Remember?

Remember?

Brick and Mortar

I am scraped against a palate

Tossed against the wind

Made only for a purpose

To keep you from crumbling

You can't live without me,

and I can't bear to be alone.

But what good is my sacrifice,

to turn a brick into a home?

You are meaningless without your brothers,

and without me you'll surely fall,

but do I live for the person inside all of you,

or the bricks that make up the wall?

Tell me, what I am made for,

I'll surely listen, I will,

But as for brick and mortar,

I'm sure our fates are sealed.

Sandbanks

I wash away with the flick of your hand,

and with me goes away dry land,

any support,

oh, you take it away.

Any foundation,

you'll make it change.

I am dependent on you, like the shore,

I'm begging,

I'm waiting,

I'm asking,

for more.

Tell me your secrets,

they won't slip from my mind.

Give me your heart,

for sand grains aren't as fine.

I wish to keep you,

unchanging like the moon,

but you tend to move,

like a frivolous dune.

Don't make me move,

as I do,

with the wind.

Don't make me lose you,

to the sand,

to your kin.

I wash away with the flick of your hand,

so just hold me close,

and don't bend,

like the sand.

Bermuda

Bermuda,

how lovely,

when a storm graces your smile.

Oh sweetheart,

how I'm giddy,

when you get mad once in a while.

I was often afraid,

that your joy was forever,

That I was nothing more,

than a temporary pleasure.

But you stay with me,

throughout it all,

and joy comes in the morning,

when the storms fall.

Bermuda,

how joyful,

I am when you come home.

When the planes have not fallen,

I have no fear of being alone.

when the day plays out perfectly.

And you are swimmingly,

and the sharks fade away.

And I see you dancing,

and laughing,

and prancing,

I know that it's okay.

Bermuda,

my darling,

why are your tears falling?

When did your salty heart begin to break?

When did it seem

you were unhappy?

When did the tsunamis come,

and the earth quake?

Bermuda,

don't cry, dear,

I'll always be right here.

I have nothing more but to make you love.

And notice,

how quiet,

the world is when you're silent.

My prayers for you are always answered from above.

So darling.

Don't cry dear.

I promise,

you have nothing,

at 

all

to

fear.

Oh the planes,

they don't fall,

when you're mad or scared at all.

So why don't you let the storm,

pass away?

Bermuda,

how lovely,

after the storm,

you're happy.

The sun shines with

a lovely

ocean breeze.

The sand,

it is warming.

I'll,

take it as

a warning.

That you'll always find joy after the rain.

Bermuda,

Bermuda,

What do I owe it to 'ya?

You make

My own storms

and planes

fly away.

(Kinda went out on a whim when I wrote 'Bermuda' since it's so long, but I hope you enjoyed it!)