Purpose

My dreams don't whisper

They ride in on the edge of a hurricane 
Thunder in through my left ear
Crash land directly into the centre of my brain
And before the steam has had a chance to dissapate

They erupt
Take over entirely

My hands start to fidget 
My toes tap
My eyes restlessly seek, while my focus narrows

Drawing me towards where I need to be
Shaping my days
Filling my movement with purpose and poise 

Demanding 
To 
Be
Heard

Author's Note

Work in progress

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Your words drew me in, a nice piece of descriptive free verse. Your final stanza "Demanding to be heard", is intrusive. Ignore them. Disregard what they are saying.

Chris

[Neville]

That's the nature of them there voices.. listen by all means, ride em if necessary but dont ever do as they tell ya.... take my word for it..... initially intriguing and by the second stanza, compelling.... Cheers, Neville