Poetry - Lynn White

  In The Rocks It was a small gap in the rocks dry and bare for a time in waiting, waiting for the tide   to turn and the sea to wash through to leave it not quite dry; a trickle of   salt water   left behind, salt tears running down a face, pooling below full of life full of creatures brought back to life. Tears can sometimes do that temporarily. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Scissortail-Quarterly-4-August-2021/dp/1955814449/ref=sr_1_1?adgrpid=1289727496319819&dchild=1&hvadid=80608056598932&hvbmt=be&hvdev=c&hvlocphy=42057&hvnetw=o&hvqmt=e&hvtargid=kwd-80608176505703%3Aloc-188&keywords=scissortail+quarterly&qid=1631206123&sr=8-1

  A New Day The loss of light comes earlier, that’s when the day ends and the night begins.   And then, strangely a new day begins at midnight in the middle of the night when darkness is at its blackest, its most intense and only the night owls are out and about heaving their midnight sighs for the new day to come and the one they’ve lost. https://flightofthedragonfly.com/lynn-white/

  Dreaming 'To sleep perchance to dream'. That ’ s what he said. Sounds so gentle, but there’s a rub, a rough edge to this sleepy escape that would see me float away sending me spinning, out of control tumbling, raging, spiralling, crashing to an indeterminate end. So perhaps it’s daytime dreaming   that has the edge to smoothly move me from one place to another. In wakeful dreams I can determine the beginning, at least, and invite the participants. Sometimes they may act out an old story with a predictable end. Sometimes  I can write a new story and then bring it to life. https://flightofthedragonfly.com/lynn-white/

  Robin It’s trill has the effervescence of Bucks Fizz. And not just as a morning wake up call, but an all day long pick me up. And it’s not just for Christmas but available season after season. Such longevity in such a small bird. Such year round year cheer from dawn to dusk. https://flightofthedragonfly.com/lynn-white/

A Bridge To Nowhere The boardwalk is empty now, a bridge for no one, a bridge to nowhere   even though   the buildings still stand for the moment, even though the sun still shines for the moment. But there’s no one there, no one living there. https://thedrabble.wordpress.com/2021/09/01/a-bridge-to-nowhere/?fbclid=IwAR0KoZ6lc-L6lIGIJ8C7qyrVK7RnMClywB-dCfwNQ0XA9oSZ4VfupTpJ_Wg

  The Green Light When she saw the green lights her first thoughts were of Triffids. Of course she knew they were imaginary   but was less sure about the green lights   which enabled their freedom, an unintended consequence   of the activity of some government or other, a terrifying aftermath. And who knew what the aftermath   of this green sky would be. She could still see them glowing above her. So, not yet blind, she thought. But then, she reconsidered. Metaphorically speaking perhaps we were all blinded a long time ago when the green light was given to the Triffids who are already rampaging. We just haven’t noticed yet, such is our loss of sight. http://www.newversenews.org/

  The Language of My Dreams I have such beautiful dreams. They speak sweetly to me inside my head.  Inside my head such sweet dreams growing louder and harsher as they struggle to be heard, as they struggle to get to the outside into the ragged, jagged outside life which passes for normality. Such beautiful dreams. Such perfect words. Such a perfect life lying inside my head. I would like it to be on the outside. https://ricjournal.com/2021/08/28/the-language-of-my-dreams-lynn-white/