Roann Mendriq Poems

Midnight surf

The midnight surf calls out to me,
in breathy whispers, feather soft;
...

Can you hear the surf song sing?
Softly, lilting on each wave;
Blithely blowing home to bring
sea shells from a distant cave.
...

Today, I woke to sense and feel
a change within the morning air;
As if the world had paused to heal
wounds of worry, doubt and care.
...

Fallen flowers start to fade,
on the grass, beneath the trees;
Wilting slowly, in the shade,
like forgotten memories.
...

How softly sinks the sun into
the placid, patient ocean;
No need for sound and noise undue,
no chaos and commotion.
...

Tis' days before Christmas and all through the city,
There's hustling and bustling in the Kitchen Committee;
Mama is baking, fresh Nankatais,
Jam tarts and Flans and my favourite Mince pies!
...

'Tis the festival of dancing,
ladies deck themselves with flowers
and begin their sweet romancing,
in the twilight's moonlit hours!
...

Grandpa takes the tablet, every morning and each night,
He's learning how to use it, which fills me with delight!
He says too much of it is bad, he takes it in small doses,
He punches in commandments, exceedingly like Moses!
...

Grandpa was sleeping, his hand on his heart,
when he awoke, with a jump and a start;
He sniffed in the air, a delicate perfume,
that wafted and waltzed, around in his room.
...

Come, write a story, come, tell me a tale
of how the wind whispers, of its wild wail;
Write of the shadows that fly with the waves,
beneath the cold sea to dark secret caves.
...