Author Archives: soul mary

Writer, poet and reader

Spring Haiku – Day 21 of April PAD

**
Bushes in the bloom
precious snowdrops fly from them
my mind breathes them in.

**
Нацъфтелите
храсти ръсят снежинки
из мислите ми.

**

An Isolation Shadorma – Day 20.2 of April PAD

**
Confinement
with myself is bliss
none other.
I love to
enjoy all the sunshine in,
keep the thrill alone.

© 2020, forestlove

A Handmade Gift – Day 20.1 of April PAD

**
A controversial gift from Secret Santa –
A nice touch attempting at personal,
Our names engraved on, but empty of meaning.

©2020, forestlove

Souvenir – Day 19 of April PAD

**

Dry flowers
pressed beyond
their colour.

A pocketful
of those
now dust.

© 2020, forestlove

Watering Flowers – Day 18 of April PAD

**

Watering flowers
Drops give their souls to the pots
The sun drinks eager.

**
© 2020, forestlove

Snail Mail – Day 17 of April PAD

Drop me a line immediately when you arrive
I want to know everything, every waking and dreaming
thought you had.
It is all about me, of course.

Our hearts thump in agony.
The letter will travel some time.

We’d say that waving our goodbyes
at the train platform when the engine
would send us different ways.

I’d go home solitary and sad.
I’d sit in the compartment warmed-up, slightly nervous
and sad.
Always sad.
For the words would reach you much, much later,

Giving you and me time alone
to daydream and get deeper in love
or chat with friends
and get deeper in love
or do no matter what and
realise you or I need to wake up.

Wake up!
But not before all the tears and sweats and thrills
have been spilled and spent
not before all tiny fears and worries
have grown into monsters
or dwindled into dry seeds good for nothing.

Wake up
when you’re ready.
The letter will travel some time.

**
© 2020, forestlove
**

Snail Mail, or the normal traditional post, is what I chose for a topic of my poem for Day 17. Poetic Asides requested “an exotic” poem, and NaPoWriMo.net prompted us to write about “forgotten technology”. Well, I was a great lover of letters, and I still keep some of my teenage penpals’ post with me. It was so amazing to get your post and read about events, ideas, tears and excitement that happened to your friends. I’m not sure what and how I would be, had I grown up in this digital world where instant messaging is almost obsolete now, when the live streaming is the true reality. Hm, I don’t care. I’m glad things occurred as they did.

The Last Thought – Day 16.2 of April PAD

**

The last thought of sun and beachtime
skipped through my mind
surrounded by vague emptiness and loose
visions of rain, seagulls
and towels.

**
© 2020, forestlove

The Last Train – Day 16.1 of April PAD

**

The last train
to go from this town
will depart
just in time
to miss the spread of fever
and carry us on.

**
© 2020, forestlove

A Dream Shadorma – Day 15.3 of April PAD

**

My dreams are
rich in colours drab
all dreams are,
despite the
things we are told in stories –
so many dream lies.

**
2020, forestlove

A Dream Tanka – Day 15.2 of April PAD

**

A dream at night, a rant at daytime
so many hours spilled –
much useless ink
All souls are wet with raindrops and
easy to forget.
**
©2020, forestlove