#25 – “OH DEAR MOTHER”

Oh dear Mother,
How I feel your breath dances
Upon my skin,
Placing me in a trance,
We are all your kin.

Oh dear Mother,
I see your light,
Shining through the trees.
It warms my soul, so bright.
Places the world at ease.

Oh dear Mother,
How we have distressed you!
The green is brown!
What will we do?
Is this why you frown?

Oh dear Mother,
You used to shine,
You used to keep us so safe.
Now all we do is cut down every pine.
For you, how do we save?

Oh dear children,
Band with me now!
Save our mother!
Let our love sound!
For Gaia, we have no other!

Submitted by Ava

#24 – “INEQUALITY”

There’s thoughts of loss
but that may be melodrama,
I’d rather not be involved in either.
I’ve nothing to offer
except my flip-switch gender.
I kept trying for a while,
lessons are learnt slowly
my mind traipses quietly
thinking long over situations
that present themselves to my heart.
I’m unsure of the truths,
whether they be hers or mine
and I never learn what to do
where to change my hearts
way of feeling,
my minds way of thinking.
There is really little to do
that I am willing,
little change beyond the extreme,
there is comfort in familiarity,
even familiar heartache.

Submitted by r.l.w, UK

#22 – “THE YULE BALL”

Silver sparkles
Lost in a sea of purple fabric
Hair singed straight
Face painted
Laces stealing my breath away

Bittersweet, the hug
From an oft-absent father
The sinking feeling, unsatisfied
Without a clue as to why
Dread mounting, anxiety shouting

“You’ll be the prettiest girl at Prom”

Matte black
Broken by a silver bowtie
Hair combed back
Neat and orderly, obscuring
The sea of butterflies I hide

Euphoric, the hug
From the lady I’ll escort
Bright flashes in my eyes
Thumps of congratulations, I am 
The lucky man to take the prettiest girl to the ball

“May I have this dance?”

Submitted by Xander Hargreaves, USA

#19 – “SPECTRUM”

It takes time to comprehend
the spectrum of the soul,
the instances and insanities
that make up the person within.
The existence and depth is much debated
but not by me.
While not tangible
our words make it real enough,
from the corners to the darkness,
between our hearts and our minds,
there is something that is
at the very centre of our being,
from pure white to jet black,
across the spectrum we walk.
Submitted by r.l.w, UK