Category: Poetry
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Beneath the Priory Lot Beneath the Priory’s parking stone,Something stirs where roots have grown.No grave is marked, no bell is rung,Yet midnight speaks in an ancient tongue.The asphalt cracks when the moon hangs low,And pale hands rise from the earth below.Some say a monk was buried there—Still whispering curses into the air.So park with care…
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Ode to William Wallace O Wallace brave, with sword held high,You fought for freedom beneath Scotland’s sky.Though chains were offered, you would not kneel—Your heart was fire, your courage steel.The man may fall, the years may pass,But freedom still whispers through Highland grass. Simona A. Brinson Photo by John Cardamone on Unsplash ©mylifeinword.com All rights…
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Where Dreams Go When They Die Where do dreams go when they die—when hope folds up its silver wingsand silence settleswhere tomorrow used to sing?Perhaps they drift beneath the bed,gathering dust beside lost things,or wander through abandoned roomswearing crowns and broken rings.Perhaps they sink into the earth,small seeds beneath the frozen ground,waiting for a kinder…
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Tending Dead Flames I kneel beside the ashesof what we used to be,cupping cold embersas though they might remember heat.I feed them old promises,dry apologies,and photographs where our smilesstill knew how to touch.But love cannot be warmedby one pair of hands.Still, I strike another match—watching it flare, tremble,and die against the darknessyou left behind.Simona A.…
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What the Tree Said to the Acorn “Little acorn, do not fear,Your growing season soon is here.Stretch your roots and reach up high—One day you’ll tickle clouds nearby!”Simona A. Brinson Photo by Nathan Ansell on Unsplash ©mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.
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The Timber Twosome Old wooden sweethearts stood out in the grass,sharing one umbrella with weatherproof class.He leaned a bit crooked, she stayed by his side,both stiff as a board but beaming with pride.If rain started falling, they wouldn’t complain—they’ve probably been standing through decades of rain.Simona A. Brinson Photo by T on Unsplash ©mylifeinword.com All…
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When the Rain Stops (Sonnet) The heavens wept the tears I could not shed,And every cloud recalled your fading name;The storm drummed sorrow through my weary head,Till every dawn and dusk became the same.Each drop became a memory set free,A whispered promise carried on the breeze;The flooded earth reflected only me,A lonely soul brought trembling…
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The Wolf and The Sparrow Beneath the pines where moonbeams played,A lonely wolf through twilight strayed.His silver coat caught evening’s glow,As silent winds began to blow.He wore no crown, he sought no fame,Yet every forest knew his name.With careful paws and amber eyes,He watched the stars adorn the skies.Upon an oak, both small and fair,There…
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Breedlove Breedlove walks with pockets fullof rose-red seeds and cyclamen.He plants them where the sidewalks crack,then hums until the bees come back.He sprinkles kindness by the gate,leaves laughter where the lonely wait.His hands smell sweet with garden rain,with mint, warm soil, and sugarcane.He tucks soft wishes under treesand sends them sailing on the breeze.By morning,…
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Solitary I sit alone beneath the waking sky,Yet, loneliness does not settle here.The wind brings stories through the trees,And sunlight rests warmly on my shoulders.In solitude, my thoughts grow quiet,Like clear water after rain.I hear the steady rhythm of my heartAnd remember that my own company is enough.No crowd is needed for joy to bloom;No…
My Life In Word 