Permission

If you want to use any of my poetry, 1st can you please contact me and obtain permission before use if its a school project or whatever, just contact me at

littlemissclairespoetry@hotmail.com

You should get a reply within two days

Thanks Little Miss Claire

Update

Little Miss Claires Poetry is still the place if you want to read my writing and will always be the 1st place for my poems to be posted!Now if you would now like to contact me directly you can email me whether its a question about my writing, your writing or any other general appropriate question. Email me at   littlemissclairespoetry@hotmail.com


        Thanks
 Little Miss Claire

Mistake

Wind Bashes across the cliff face

Drowning out Summers plea to stay

The wind starts to howl the

Sound echoing, shaking the earth deep to its core

Water of a deep wash of blues and greens

Churns and engulfs the lower cliff

White spray rebounds of the rocks.

The cold breeze harshly flys through

My hair and dances across my arms

Goose bumps begin to evolve

Its getting dark and a eerie silence haunts me

A faint sound of summers plea whispers

Across my skin.

Thunder strikes and deafens all my senses

Rain showers on the moist sand on the cliff

Beach grass and daisies are toddling

Across the Cliff

I look down towards the icy water

Below throwing its self to the cliff

Then I look towards the brewing sky

Of darkness and unpredictable woe.

Summers last plea unheard 

To the body that plunged to the

Unforgiving water

The bodies cold eyes

Spiralling towards me helplessly

Like it was all a big mistake... 

What goes bump in the night

Have you ever in the middle of the night, been lightly nudged on your foot?

 Then a sudden gust of wind with no explanation blows on to your soft face.

 Then you feel a cold tingle up your spine

 Everything seems cold for a few moments

You reach for your blanket its not there.

 You are rather scared now but then you find the blanket on the floor.

 You try to reason with your self all these events

 But really there is really no explanation.

You’re squeezing your eyes together

 Afraid to open your eyes just in case there really is something there.

 You think "there can't be anything there I'm just imagining all of this

 So to prove myself I’m just imagining this crazy notion I shall open my eyes"

You slightly open one eye everything is dark and blurry

 You see some sort of movement

 You instantly throw your blanket over your head.

But by morning you have forgotten these events that had no real explanation.

Glance

Glance

It's a late Sunday afternoon
The light is streaming
Into a wide-windowed room
The light is dancing across it
Hitting the faint yellow walls
Which are lighter than butter
Yet darker than an old country roads dead grass
But before hitting the walls
The light rolls across the cold white marble floors
Every object it hits
Is seemed to be instantly
Sparkled with fairy dust
And is now appears to be magical
It's perfect
You're in a World of your own awe
But then the last touch of light twinkles in to your eye
Everything's gone
The magic's gone
The room has now faded to a dull ordinary room
But that twinkle stays in yourself forever
Yet only to form
One single tear
As you leave the darkened room.

Suffer

 Its wilting leafs that are golden brown

Every day another petal falls

Another leaf falls to the harsh gravel

So delicate that if you would dare to touch it

It would fall apart like burnt paper

Then remain utterly lifeless as ash on ground

I feel guilty

Watching- watching its dry thin roots

Trying to gather precious water

That doesn't exist

Its stalk slowly drops as the days pass....

Is it my fault?
 I wonder, as it lies frail and dead…

 

Think Again....

To every person

There is a dark side

Is for some their dark side

Is even darker....

I tend to walk the back streets

My wispy dark hair

Always seems to cover

My so called innocent eyes

I leap across walls

My clothes getting torn

Along the way

Yet this only when darkness

Falls across the ally ways in which I live

When dawn arrives

There is the perfect child

And no one would ever suspect....

Natural

I'm running
My bare feet
Lightly touching
The soft wet moss
Covered in a dark mix of mud
Oozing between my toes
As I'm running
I know I'm getting closer
The soft drips
Of the waterfall
Echoes through out the creeks path
A step up on to a rock a little spider crawls across my foot
Upon a rock I stand
I reach my hand out

Towards the water falling
Across the waterfalls slender edge
Softly the water tickling my hand then
Tinkles down my finger
Then interrupting the creeks mottled muddy surface
A  high pitch "blup" as it submerges
My dreaming eyes of wonder
Witnessing this normal yet beautiful thing.