Each Day I look,
Searching for a bud.
It has not bloomed in over two years.
Still I wait.
I wait for the green on which the world runs.
NAPOWRIMO DAY 1. A POEM USING TITLES FROM 3 BOOKS YOU HAVE ON YOUR BOOKSHELF.
Darkness danced in.
Trees washed in the wind.
The witch of Cologne languished,
engulfed in acts of unspeakble sin.
Centuries old and with teeth yellowed as cheese,
The secret, untold, festered.
And Free, like weeds.
Down, down to a watery grave.
Condemned to the dark for the rest of her years,
She glided down.
Down into the deep.
Silence eveloped her.
Silence embraced her.
Silence looked back at me, cold and ice blue.
I saw hollow eyes that yearned to sleep.
It would take a thousand years to emerge from the pit.
A thousand years to get out of that pit.