B'Creative

With the first light of dawn
A thousand crystals sparkle,
On every blade of grass and emerald spear,
As flowers curl up into buds and sleep in leafy beds.
I feel they must dance all night in a whirl of colour
Under brittle star glittered skies blue with cold.
Dazzling beetle iridescence and pale cicada robes
Are all that remain from the revelry of the night before.

Tiny tots step out
To share the glee
Of friendship in games
Till parental traps
Make them coil
And color their sights
With different shades.

 
 Unlike most other circumstances which have forced me to write, things which have happened in the more recent past, have compelled me not to.  

Her hair is sleek and shiny, the ends delicately brushing her shoulder blades, framing her petite face. She stands in front of the medicine cabinet, her expressive eyes intently focusing on the small mirror. The person she sees is faintly familiar. The tired, gaunt face, one she is getting accustomed to these days looks at her pityingly.