Essence
I’m exhausted, wrung out,
Hung up, what’s left of me dripping, my essence seeps into the ground, feeding the needy parched roots.
They sigh and so do I.
Dawn Illsley
Category: Wellness
Fallen leaves poetry
Fallen Leaves
I wish I could collect fallen leaves,
Like I did when I was five,
They were beautiful to me,
I collected one of every shape and Colour,
Just to be fair.
I wanted to save them, give them a home that was warm, and dry.
I thought they would stay alive forever,
If I cared enough.
But like everything,
Their beauty faded,
Dried up, cracked, turned to dust.
I didn’t understand like I do now.
Trying to keep something alive that is dead is futile.
Now their beauty reminds me of the fragility of life.
Dawn Illsley
Good morning poetry
Good morning
By Dawn Illsley
Roaring wind lulls me to another place.
Quiet breathing in the margins of my mind.
Pressing thoughts, bossy and demanding,
yank me from my reprieve to reality.
There’s a call for spring outside the window.
An urgent call from a little bird whose hungry.
Then out comes the sun, like a little answered prayer.
The light creeps across the room,
Warming the spot on the floor,
Soon to be occupied
By a little furry beast,
Desperate for warmth.
On the windowsill,
The pink blooms are dried up,
Not the end,
But it seems hopeful for more.
Hostage
Held hostage
my thoughts are not my own.
Like a pantomime I go through space.
Controlled from afar.
The ties of a puppeteer constrict my breathing,
muffle my emotion.
I’m struggling against their force,
feeling the surge of power.
That power feeds my seeds of anger,
small growths that are blossoming
into a force that i’m fearful to use.
Cutting those ties means freedom,
a freedom I’ve been ignoring,
holding fast to the past.
Not wanting to go forward alone.
Those ties holding me are made of string, not steel.
They never gave me support, just a false sense of security.
They were never truly holding me, though I felt them.
Like a lie, I need to reveal them for what they are.
False hope, a manipulation of the truth into a fairytale,
only they can believe.
I will not be held hostage anymore.
I’m free.
Dawn
Heavy Thoughts
Drenched in sorrow
Drenched in sorrow she sits,
Cross legged,
Head bowed, in a silent prayer,
To someone she doesn’t believe in,
About something she doesn’t understand
Poetry disguise
In disguise by Dawn Illsley
A smile painted on my face,
With lipstick too red for my taste.
Veiled hope in disguise,
A shroud worn to disguise.
Poetry Rose
Rose by Dawn Illsley
Weathered and worn,
Tired and torn.
She waits for time to end.
How can it be that she doesn’t see how time can drag and bend?
When you can’t remember your own name,
and everyone looks the same.
Poetry Time
Time by Dawn Illsley
My soul is bleeding,
Hoping beyond help.
Time is ticking,
Loud and clear.
It’s getting late,
Too late to care.
Poetry Power
War
Life is bickering with death,
Impatiently death waits,
Reluctantly life has to go,
And death can’t wait.
Poetry
Barely There
There’s a crowd inside my head,
It’s beyond capacity.
There’s no room for hope.
I’m empty of care.
I’m tired of smiling.
I’m barely there.
Dawn's Chronicles 