Dark Doors

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Pay It Forward – poem

This was written after a friend disappeared for 24 hours, causing a combination of bone-deep terror and seething anger. I was exhausted when he resurfaced, apologetic for sleeping for 20 hours straight. It wasn’t the first thing I wrote; that prose was venomous and potentially unfit for human consumption. Enjoy this instead.

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The Land of Nod

He sinks down into the pillow, the blankets,
The healing sleep of neverwhere.

Around him rise the peaks and mountains of
The Land of Nod,
Psychedelic swirls of colour
Echoing Seussian landscapes.

The rhyme and rhythm of the land
Envelope and transport him,
Lifting and carrying him,
Bobbing as a leaf on a stream,
As the cares of the days
Are washed clean.

Time lacks impact.
The songs of Nod
Fill his heart with
Cloud-covered days,
Starry nights of wonder,
A personal Xanadu.
Elation.
Rejuvenation.

The currents of colour and song
Sweep him along,
Too soon,
Back to the shores
Of his bed.

But the wonder of
The Land of Nod
Fills his soul
Again.

2 Comments

  1. Very good Lynn. I’m not really into poetry, but I like it.

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