Her red umbrella, she keeps tight hold ,
A shelter from the out side rain and cold.
With every drop of rain, dry she stays
A splash of colour on cloudy days
Under its canopy, long walks at night ,
In the pouring rain, everything feels right.
As puddles form and laughter flows,
Her red umbrella goes wherever she goes,
It Brings protection, come sun or storm,
In its embrace, she is dry feels warm.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
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No Word Comes Near Enough
The English language has its limits. I learned this when I became a student of the Bible and looked up the Greek and Hebrew definitions behind the Scriptures I loved. Some languages have so much more depth and power than the one I use to convey my thoughts. But, even so, I don't think any word could ever come close to describing this void and pain I am journeying through. I don't know how to swim through its murky waters.
By Shirley Belk7 days ago in Poets
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