my poems

 Poems:

Black out:

 In the air a noise whispered, a willow-tree with twisted leaves 

toppled over, the grey and yellow light seemed to spell the great grey willow. Fighting with sleep was over in a dream sun muttered sleep. 

Poem: 

Cinnamon

Wide dark brown eyes with thick, long black eyelashes stare at the moon in awe.

She carries a big brown leather bag full of joy and bad luck cautiously trying not to spill the objects inside

.

She moves gracefully, but is strangely fast and is as quiet as a mouse.

 She has a soft, kind voice that makes her sound like she's singing, but if you get on her nerves her voice becomes stern and so serious that it's as if her voice could sink a boat.

Her freckles cover her face like a mask, her long blond hair is always down.

Her name is cinnamon.

Rhyming poem:

Simon Mole

There once was a poet called simon mole 

He likes to eat sausage rolls from a bowl.

He lived in a hole with his best friend Joel who was part troll. 

Joel liked to go on strolls with his pet foal whose name was also joel. 

They loved to eat coal.

 One day Joel lost control and turned into a full troll. 

He ate his pet foal whose name was also joel and then turned Simon Mole into a sausage roll.