Fallen leaflets Holding​ on to dying hope Over hostile marbles Dead stalks. Green Giving way To brown: Decay. A pleaser for life’s frown. Falling hopes Gives ways for rising dirges Console is silent foam. Deepened trenches. ©Lansah Lawrence June 29, 2017. lansah.wordpress.com Advertisements


In your bossom Lies the beauty Of unity of the Maker And peace for mankind. You are the beacon That sparkles hope So we may climb the rope Our Creator dropped so we may find our way back home. In your eyes lies the light That guides us on life’s path. So we may not […]


Tredding thin threads of trust Miming words of caution The believer travels the rope Hanging above sharp steel Of drowning streched arms Into viscous valleys​ of foil. The fall speaks tales of flaws Buried under the foam of kinship Must tiny sparkles spread latter Across laden foam of thickened blood ? The fall speaks tales […]

*Vain Size*

The silence of the tree Is steady growth. No need To groan so all do know It’s root tighter now holds. The voice of the drum Travels far. Not by its size But the melody of its tune. The grain holds an atom’s might. Yet in it lies multitudes Of man’s grace. No food is […]


  On the island of love I feel lost in wilderness Of everlasting happiness. Stranded. Amidst shrubs and torns That prick reminders of my flaws I feel the guilt of Adam in Eden. Shaken: I feel the branches of Everest trees Pointing cold fingers of blame At my lame plea for forgiveness. In doubt, Do […]

*Few Falls*

  The sun peeps Spreading glimpses of hope Love speaks The blind gain not from both. Take a step Fall deep down the drains. The hurt Is a mirror of your gains. Console The heart is heavy Control The cries repel tragedy. Bruises hold tales of success. Few falls are steps.Take the next. ©Lansah Lawrence […]

*Cold Winds*

When all cool winds blow down the south Cracking northen lips long enough Savannah trees have become bare Time is nigh for the breaking dawn The call is loud Listen! Time has changed Move! The tales of the traveler Are reminders of strive. They hold his chest of pride. Sweat is bitter yet bores sweet. […]