The cacophony of nothing,
Peace ringing in my ears,
A huge blast of emptiness,
One big silent cheer!
There’s nothing to listen to,
No one’s voice to hear.
The world I know has gone
All the sound has disappeared.
Suddenly I think again,
And sit back and relax.
The room around might look the same,
But my ears have taken a step back.
If peacefulness is bliss
Then noise is atrocious
I have stepped out of an abyss
Where the sound is ferocious.
Inhale, out, breathe again
Sanity once again my friend.
The smile returns, I can silently sing.
That is, until I hear the bloody phone ring.
© Leonora Sophie
Friday, March 16, 2012
ThE oLd MAn
There’s an old man on my train
I keep seeing him again and again
He gets on
He gets off
He sometimes travels just one stop
But I see him everyday
Where does he go?
What does he do?
Today he’s lying on the chairs
Catching the rays
Enjoying the day
As the commuters wait for their train
He looks ruffled
Yet he looks content
As he stares down the tracks
He doesn’t move
To make space
For commuters and their bags
What he does all day
I’ve no idea
I must go to work
But there he is each morn
Watching the dawn
At mine, the penultimate stop
To the end of the line
He can’t go
Does he even have a ticket to show?
I try not to stare
Pretend to fiddle with my hair
And ask is this what he does all day?
© Leonora Sophie
I keep seeing him again and again
He gets on
He gets off
He sometimes travels just one stop
But I see him everyday
Where does he go?
What does he do?
Today he’s lying on the chairs
Catching the rays
Enjoying the day
As the commuters wait for their train
He looks ruffled
Yet he looks content
As he stares down the tracks
He doesn’t move
To make space
For commuters and their bags
What he does all day
I’ve no idea
I must go to work
But there he is each morn
Watching the dawn
At mine, the penultimate stop
To the end of the line
He can’t go
Does he even have a ticket to show?
I try not to stare
Pretend to fiddle with my hair
And ask is this what he does all day?
© Leonora Sophie
Origami
The lady opposite me has a skill
She has a bag of paper
She fold a piece
To make it small
But produces a tall crane
She concentrates
She doesn’t stop
She fills the bag completely
Wait, she takes a pause
Finds another bag
And digs deep inside.
More paper? I wonder
And watch in awe
As she pulls out something colourful.
Just a candy, popped in the mouth
As she resumes her nifty work.
Folding, chewing
Fold away
How many will she make?
How many will she make?
Her bag is filling
100, 1000?
Perhaps they are a present.
Some child will smile and
Thank her granny for her
Non stop folding efforts.
“You’re welcome” She smiles
And disappears to the store
To buy even more paper.
© Leonora Sophie
She has a bag of paper
She fold a piece
To make it small
But produces a tall crane
She concentrates
She doesn’t stop
She fills the bag completely
Wait, she takes a pause
Finds another bag
And digs deep inside.
More paper? I wonder
And watch in awe
As she pulls out something colourful.
Just a candy, popped in the mouth
As she resumes her nifty work.
Folding, chewing
Fold away
How many will she make?
How many will she make?
Her bag is filling
100, 1000?
Perhaps they are a present.
Some child will smile and
Thank her granny for her
Non stop folding efforts.
“You’re welcome” She smiles
And disappears to the store
To buy even more paper.
© Leonora Sophie
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