Serren Kassa

There’s a light in the distance But I know not what it’s for, It just appeared in the mist As twilight settled. The hazy blue-grey Of mountains dressed in clouds, Overshadows and hides The origin of this pinprick glow. Almost a speck-sized orb To guide you through eventide’s haze. *** Www.serrenwrites.wordpress.com #SerrenWrites #Poetry #challenge #world #wisps #Earth #twilight #creativewriting #SerrenWrites #dailyword #Night #peace #poem #lamp #nature #APoemaDay #eventide #l

I walk along the side Of a hill well climbed: Out past the glen where the trees grow thick And tall And cover the path with dappled shade. Branches overhang with umbrellas of leaves Until you step out beyond, out the other side, Onto an open hill, Where you can stop and gaze at the land below. This land, a timeless land, It stretches out below- A patchwork of colour and fields and towns and roads, Where the river curls and meanders through, And you see the riverb

A cloudless sky. It’s been a while Since the expanse above stretched endlessly blue, No wisp of cloud or mark in sight, Just blue, Light blue: Azure. How long has it been since the sky glowed like this? Pure, Not grey, Not musty, Not white and covered So that we cannot see what lies above- Just a blanket of cloud and white. But not today. Today: A veil of blue, So high that it feels we could never touch it, Never reach it, Never pass it. Stretching on forever, Always just out

Today I have been thinking about the spring, waiting eagerly for it to appear full bloom, bringing with it warmth, sunshine, and beautiful growth. *** She Dances with the Breeze She dances with the breeze, This friend of mine, Eyes radiant with the joy of life, Of music; This melody that enchants her heart And my vision As I watch from my place beneath the sun. If there were leaves, I believe they would dance with her. Twisting around her on an unseen spiralling air c

The Fire There’s a fire cracking in the hearth- Burning, dancing, twisting, Glowing. The blackening logs hiss with heat, Steaming remnants of water evaporating in flames. And the deep burnt orange of the flickering flames, Glow like an autumn sunset contrasting with the black Of night, or the dark metal of the old, rustic stove. I sit to watch the fire lick up the blackened logs, Warm inside near this heated stove, Away from the blistering cold of the outside. *** ht

With the snow bringing a little crazy to England, I found myself reminiscing the sunshine we had in the summer. It doesn’t feel like over half a year since I went to a local lake with a couple of my friends and sat in the sun enjoying the peace and contentment it brought to us, but it was. It was a wonderful moment of our own Shangri-La. While it may not have been a mystical, harmonious valley in Tibet, as in James Hilton’s Lost Horizon, for a typical millennial stuck in thei

What could be nicer that to hide away from the biting wind inside a warm café, staring out at the inky waters of a harbour while enjoying a hot coffee? My sentiment seemed to be reflected in the mind of a local pigeon, who hovered by the door waiting for a customer to open it so that he could sneak in and stand in the warmth of the indoors! It behaved very well, and just stood snugly near my table- eyes drooping as it seemed to comfortably nod off! Today’s poem also reflects

One of my favourite styles of poem is the Tanka. I do love Haiku, but I find the extra couple of lines in a Tanka, obviously, will give extra room to play with for a more descriptive piece. I’m really lucky that on the days I am at home, and sitting in my room to work or read, I get to see a beautiful bird of prey circling my home. A small family of red kites live somewhere nearby, so they circle our area daily. There is very little that is more wonderful than to hear their s