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“Secret Fears”
Clyde Lartey
Secret fears
Hidden inside the locked files of the brain.
Right there,
In front of you.
A spider,
Snake,
Custard.
That inner fear when you see it,
Kept away even from the closest of relatives.
That shiver every time you:
See it,
Smell it,
Hear it.
A never ending flame in your stomach,
So long as you are near it.
Trying to keep a straight face whilst holding
a rattle snake.
Secret fears,
The toughest of enemies.
“Wreckage”
FlorianHull
I walked out onto the street. Obliterated homes were strewn all over
the wreckage.A mattress was lying on the rubble. I could just imagine
a young boy snuggled up into it, feeling like he was safe from anything.
But nobody can hide from a bomb.
What would once have been a peaceful street, where people could
socialise and talk about the new big thing in the newspapers, was now
a disturbed, solitary place. I could smell the smoke and the burning fires
that had not been stopped from their treacherous voyage through the
city.There was a faint smell of oil that made me gag with disgust. I could
hear the cries of people who had lost their loved ones.As they wept, I
had a flashback of my friends and family.Tears welled up in my eyes.
The sky above me was dark.The smoke had polluted it so much that
I feared I would never see a sunny day again. It was like it was night
time forever. I jumped up in a fright, as a cable wire snapped and an arc
of electricity sprayed out onto the dirty floor. I looked to my right and
saw a group of survivors around a camp fire.Their pale petrified faces
were begging me to wake them up from this nightmare from hell.They
looked like they had never moved from that spot and never would.
I had never experienced anything like this before. It was horrific.
There was nobody to help.The world had abandoned us.We had been
marooned and left to rot.
“Spring”
Steve Zhao
The long months of winter
Slowly pull away.
Bare, cold, naked trees, embrace the long-
forgotten sun.
Fresh, soft green buds burst open,
Starting a new leaf.
Spring has come.
The long slumber of Mother Nature
Has worn off.
The frost has been driven back,
The cold has left,
The early-morning birds rejoice again,
Bursting their melodies through the sky.
Spring has come.
“The Forest”
Rory Nell
The cold, calm forest,
Surrounds me, draws me in.
The golden leaves shiver,
In the autumn air.
A high screech,
A soaring bird,
Drifting on the icy wind.
The coarse bed of needles,
Prick, pinch and pummel
My sore feet.
The naked conifers,
Waving in the wind,
Like loved ones;
Goodbye, summer.
The rustle of the leaves;
They fall silently.
The trees wither.
And then new life,
In the saplings of spring.
S u m m e r F i e l d s
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