Poetry

By

Ken Allan Dronsfield

Penny for your Soul

I awoke on a warm day in May

the sun was rising, up on high

my spirit lost in a numbing low.

Not truly caring to live or die.

Worthless day fades away

rocky crags on Loch Broom.

By a cave along the shore

a horned wraith is at home.

Searching all about the mount,

as I crept, my heart grew cold.

He appears with eyes of yellow

whispering, “penny for your soul”.

With pious angst I nervously grin,

the beast smirks and his eye color

changes to a bright reddish hatred;

sky rumbles, clouds part, winds blow.

A flash of light, belief shattered;

the beast now gone, into a swirl of

heaven above, and a voice echos,

in baritone, “Penny for your Soul”.

Needle Me to Death

Eyes opening slowly;

hazy gaze focusing

white sheet covering

icy shallow inhales.

Straps binding loosely

cannot move or speak

force another heartbeat

strength so very weak.

Addicted slave of meth

pitted freak, rotted flesh,

forgotten in the morgue,

~Needle me to Death.

Feather

Pristine morning

awakening sun

soft, gentle winds

butterflies dance.

Marshmallow cloud

shadows follow me.

Chirping birds sing

happy tunes of spring.

A lonely feather glides

guided by the breeze

to rest upon the ground

at my dew whetted feet.

This Sunday morning

like none before, as is

the feather and us all,

utterly rare and unique.

Ken Allan Dronsfield

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet and Author originally from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He enjoys hiking, playing guitar and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. His published work can be found in Journals, Magazines and Blogs throughout the Web.