Daily Poem #8: Music

It surrounds us
It wraps tightly around us
It sends warmth
It sends calm
It sends alarm
It sends peace
It alerts us
It soothes us
It makes us want to dance
It makes us want to nap
It is the sound of the garbage truck at 3 am
It is the sound of beating drums
It frightens us
It covers us in sweet songs
It is loud
It is quiet
It is deep
It is high
It is fast
It is slow

Yet, it is one word.

-Trevor :)

Comments

Introduction

Hello Everyone! My name is Trevor John Olson and I created this website for the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) challenge, in which I will be writing a poem daily. Make sure to comment if you have any prompts for my writing! Enjoy!

Poetry Month Day #27: Quarantine Birthday

I'm sorry for the delay in writing. Enjoy! When tomorrow comes I expect dread I will have the 'glums' I won't leave my bed It will rain It will pour I'll be stuck in vain Furthermore I doubt I'll have fun I just can't imagine Doing anything fun My birthday, but I stay IN No party! No friends! No Thomas or Marty Or Von Auren twins The cake will be sour The limes will be sweet I will spend hours Blanketed on the couch seat What's that you said Mother? Can it be true? We'll all be together So it WON'T be blue! -Trevor :) I am actually looking forward to my birthday, mind you ;)

Daily Poem #2: Outside the Garage Door

Outside the garage door there is a sound An obscure type of music The whine of a hound Outside the garage door there is a smell The aroma of barbecue Brisket, I can tell Outside the garage door there is a taste The flavor of good times I run to, make haste Inside the garage door there is a voice I know I can follow if If that be my choice The whine of the hound The smell of sweet brisket The flavor of good times Draw me away from that voice But inside the garage door I sense sorrow An uncomfortable burden The woes of tomorrow Outside the garage door, I now return To the hound, and the friends They are hard to discern They have changed ever so slightly Outside the garage door there is a sound The hound running by Catching a bone in one bound Outside the garage door there is a smell A bland aroma Chicken, I can tell Outside the garage door there is a taste The flavor of sour company But I don't make haste But...

Poetry by Trevor Olson

Search This Blog