Biography of Waltzing Mouse
she has always enjoyed creative writing froma young age and now, even though only 13, is beginning to write a book. Her poems 'come to her from seeing the most ordinary of things' and finds she cant write if shes written the title to the poem. She wants to write for a living, but being as cynical as she is, has decided that thats not going to earn her wenough money. so, shes going to be a corporate lawyer.
Waltzing Mouse's Works:
none published at present but has just started writing one
Waltzing Mouse Poems
I'Ll Love You Forever
When I look at you I forget how to breathe You are a fallen angel I love the way you hold me tight
The White Rose
The white rose sits on her grassy throne Her hands are gloved in leaves of green Her face is as pale as the winter moon She looks to the sun, lively and keen
A Touch Of Moonlight
A touch of moonlight Whispering over my skin Shimmering in the night
End Of Autumn
Resplendent in a golden gown Autumn sits on the hillside She talks with the trees And leaves a gold blush on their cheeks
I lie on the grass Staring up into a starless night Into a characterless sky Thinking of you
White horses Dancing amidst the heavens Leaping, swaying beyond the stars
Racing With The Wind
Racing with the wind Time flying on the breeze Hair blowing in my face Adrenaline screams
The sunrise is a golden orb Light peeks through the clouds In the first pale blush of morning The sun is veiled in silver shrouds
Don'T Sit On The Moam-Raths!
Don't Sit on the Moam-Raths! Scuttling colour on a blank canvas Painting a world of words too confusing I don't even understand it
I Hate You
Have you ever met someone Who steals your friends And turns them against you So when you talk to them
The Satin Gown
Diamonds of another kind Sparkle in between the rays of the moon The satin folds of my gown shimmer Pearly in the light
I hate writers cramp I don't want to write Don't want to think And my imagination collapses in on itself
Hate It seeps into the bloodstream Like sinister poison It infects my mind
I looked into his dark brown eyes They are filled with the memories of days gone by When he was on the battlefield When he was a Warhorse
How Can You Love Me?
Do you really love me?
Or did you say that to all the girls you slept with last week?
Do they satisfy you more than I do?
I'm sure they do,
They're common prostitutes
And after all you've done
I still love you
Your charm catches me offguard everytime