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Poetry thread

Lotus

I quite like writing poetry and so I thought I'd start a thread - please post your poems here. The first one I want to share is one I posted on another thread recently, about autistic people being typecast.

It's called "I don't wanna be typecast"

I don't wanna be typecast, I'm not a Tinpot

Unimportant, inferior or worthless, I'm not.

I'm not a savant, no genius IQ

But I'm not stupid, I can learn stuff too.

Don't think there is no emotion there

I have empathy, consideration and care

I don't wanna be typecast, no matter what we do

We're all individuals, I'm me and you're you

Parents

  • I've never tried poetry, but here's something:

    Seas of wheat awave and shade aplenty,
    Streams glittering, ducks paddling gently,
    Eaten by machines, colours falling to ground,
    Flows more angry, winds swirl around,

    Night draws in and views diminish,
    Twigs abound, a year prepares to finish,
    A fluffy clouded dream gone to rain,
    Autumn beckons winter, come again.

Reply

  • I've never tried poetry, but here's something:

    Seas of wheat awave and shade aplenty,
    Streams glittering, ducks paddling gently,
    Eaten by machines, colours falling to ground,
    Flows more angry, winds swirl around,

    Night draws in and views diminish,
    Twigs abound, a year prepares to finish,
    A fluffy clouded dream gone to rain,
    Autumn beckons winter, come again.

Children
  • in reply to Stuart333

    That's excellent - thank you for posting

  • in reply to Stuart333

    This is a bit better:

    Trains clattering along on wheels of steel,
    Sound dead'ning leaves gone, twigs all bare,
    Sunbeams bright little warmth to feel,
    Giving way to gloom, grey and damp air.

    Creaking above, winds causing strain,
    Old boughs prepare as best they can,
    Cold is coming, mice have stored their grain,
    Fungi flourish, colours turn all wan.

    Spider webs, rendered visible by frost,
    Breaths plume in air now still,
    Birds yet to depart look a little lost,
    Children try to summon snow by will.

    Behind misty panes candles flicker,
    Festive trees bejeweled all aglow,
    Streets rumble with sounds of a gritter,
    Men of snow awaiting children to grow.