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Sar Brown Poem
A hug for my feet
So complete
No harsh cold floors
Wood, stone, no more.
Protecting me from harm
A cushion barrier from alarm
Could I be thinking of something deeper?
The depths of my soul could be steeper
Maybe yes, Maybe no
All I know
Is I thank you.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
And thus I thought to myself "Pain. T'is rather bad, forsooth."
Why am I writing this? I don't know.
I think I'll give up, sign off and go.
Why the hell am I speaking in rhyme?
I really will leave for sure this time.
Oh, no! I keeping on writing verse!
This affliction just keeps getting worse,
So I'll stop.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2010
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Sar Brown Poem
One, Two, Three
The Sea.
Four, Five, Six
Broken Sticks.
Seven, Eight, Nine
Never be mine.
Ten.
Here I am again.
Counting,
The numbers keep amounting
To what?
I do not
Know.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
Oh, closed book! The impossibility
That you would open to me
Why can't I reach out
To find out
About.
Oh, the dust on you! Nobody's read
The thoughts inside your papery bed
Look at the words
Can't be heard
Absurd.
Remember the tree you came
Knocked down by a yellow crane
Now here you are
Changed by far
Paper.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
Sometimes, people catch me staring
Daring
Sometimes, I'm caring
Often, I'm scaring them.
When I was young, looking out a window
I asked my mum why people looked at me so
She looked at me, taken aback
Sarah, she said, it's because you're looking back!
I guess I just like to look.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
"What's wind" I asked one day
Is something there underneath the air
That makes it blow this way?
Is it magic, is it witchcraft
that creates this chilly draught?
What is the reason for this breeze
That bends the boughs of the trees,
Creates the waves upon the seas,
And flies a kite with greatest ease?
It seems that wind will always be
The greatest of life's mysteries.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
Bang, bang, bang
Go the guns.
There will be no cream buns
for tea.
Not for me.
This is war.
Boom, boom, boom
It's a grenade!
There will be no lemonade,
Sat in the shade
Of a big oak tree.
Not for me.
This is war.
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
Time to go but I don't want to
Shredding paper is heard
A tap on the window, is it you?
Or maybe it's a bird.
Happy faces at the door
A song that I don't know
When will I find something more?
Time is passing slow.
Waves crash like opulent lives
A boat is seen above
Starry wishes fill the skies
Is it hate or is it love?
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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Sar Brown Poem
Why am I me?
Floating here in the blue sea
The fish can swim the birds can fly
I am neither underwater or in the sky
I don't know how I got here
But I don't feel any fear
For blissfully I float away
I know I'll reach shore one day
Copyright © Sar Brown | Year Posted 2011
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