Stories in my head #poetry


golden fountain

spillway of imagination

words turbulent and frenzied

the hero anxious in the wings

 villain threatens with aplomb

a hushed sense of what’s next

blood and tears fall

innocence fleas the shadowed way

a woman saves the day

the sun rises all is well

time  is small in my hand

I brandish my weapon

 pen cuts through the marrow

***

Hours with sand and paint

dust particles tease the light

my mind writes

The prompt this week at Poet’s United is Conquest (or Conqueror). The writer holds so much in her hand – the pen a mighty weapon.

 

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12 thoughts on “Stories in my head #poetry

  1. __ Moonie, I remember the spillways at Highland Lake, in Winchester CT. Long ago (time), the power of that spillage ran a water wheel at a headwater mill, most probably it was a gristmill, in its history. Loved this_!
    _m

    spillway
    as moments leave time’s lake
    thoughts mill

    Like

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