the sun is sparkling, the rain rumbling, and we badly need some poetry...

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Diane Webster - One Poem

Motel Room At Night

Without glasses
in strange city darkness
and unfamiliar shadows
the smoke detector
with single green light
looks like a flying saucer
beamed in on another earthling.
Silly, triple-locked door
when it already resides inside
silently disguised
for my own protection,
watchful as I fall asleep
to dreams so adventurous
I am reluctant to wake
and ask the green light
to beam me aboard for more.