The wind blows,…

The wind blows, the tides shift

I sit on the sea shore, watching the waves

Above me sits a chalk faced cliff

Its shape and form change every day

The air is fresh, I breathe it in

Face to the sky, the stars like gods

Movement of hands, touching sand to skin

This beach, on this night, has no flaws

Such a perfect view, of the ocean when standing

Preoccupations take no hold, in this moment

The water seems so commanding

The urge to be in its engrossment

A final look at the infinite darkness

Then a calm stroll towards the brightness




Midnight Murder…

Midnight Murder

Night falls, London shrouded in fog.

The white cloud hides a killer.

A tall dark figure looks and nocks;

A fair maiden. Brews a fever.

A glimpse at the tower clock.


In the frosty midnight hour,

He starts to stalk.

She knows nothing; see a kind sir

If she turns but she only walks.

The beauty, relentless of her,

Strikes him as if to taunt and mock.

Soft footsteps on the cobble, now quicker.

He closes the gap; he also sees white chalk.


A flurry of action and sound, a blur.

She turns, a shimmer of silver,

She reeks of shock and fear. Trickster!

Her hope is but a glimmer.

A plunge, a second, a third to be sure

The fire in her eyes burns dimmer

While his, glow brighter.


A demented caper,

A captured lover,

Midnight murder.





By Hanford 11C