#ava nerio

🌞✒️📖🎵🎶♥️🌌🌌🇨🇱🌈

If we lost our dreams, where would we be,

Would our magic sink beneath the sea,

Would the colors from the rainbow's fade,

Would we lose the sun and live in shade.

🌈🌞🌌🇨🇱🇮🇪

If we lost our dreams what would we do,

Would I never more get to talk to you,

Would the poems we write have no rhyme,

Would our music lose its beat and time.

🎶🇨🇱🇮🇪🌌🌈🎶🎵

If we don't dream, we will lose ourselves,

We will lose our fairies, goblins and elves,

We will lose our reasons for going on,

That's what will happen, if our dreams are gone.

🌈🎶💞🇨🇱🇮🇪🌌🎶🎵📖✒️🌞

Ambrose Harte

I don’t know how, and I don’t know why

these macaroons fall from the sky....

I don’t know how and I just don’t get it.

Natural phenomena doesn’t fit.

They’re in crazy colors, small and round

blues and reds are to be found.

Greens and yellows from the clouds

Pinks and purples seem to crowd-

They come in orange, cream, and brown.

‘Cause macaroons are falling down!

Some fall right into children’s mouths.

but I stand by and just say “Wow”

Though I enjoy a snack or two

Is it me? Or is it strange to you?

For I was outside, on a walk

when rainbow clouds started to stalk

Stopping there, I stood in awe

and looked up to enjoy it all.

‘Twas dropping cookies, small and soft.

I gasped so hard it made me cough.

I ran and ran, but it was too late

To be hit with cookies was my fate!

and I don’t know why; I’m so confused...

I guess I’ll have to act amused

after all, they’re nice and sweet

but they’re falling down onto the street!

Even though they thump on my head

It could be pie striking instead.

But I don’t know how and don’t know why

these macaroons fall from the sky

from rainbow clouds in heaven blue

but you must believe me, ‘cause it’s true!

                                                            ---Ava Nerio

Sometimes I think that when I write

that this poem will be my last

like I will not always have my gift

and my limit’s been surpassed

Like my creativity will go away

my well will eventually dry

I am left with nothing to say

my spark of madness will die

I’m not the only one to think this

and as we type our latest works

we may always end up satisfied

and yet the doubts still lurk...

It is a pounding headache

that is a reappearing wave

it eats away the confidence

we try so hard to save.

It’s a troop of menacing goblins

That have the ability to grow...

They tell you you have no idea

on where you are to go

with sharp and gnashing teeth

and long, and blemished arms

They snatch helpless victims

and they cause us great alarm.

You feed it with your thoughts

even though you want them dead

But you cannot kill your Fears

cause they’re inside of your head.

You’re not afraid to be criticized

but you’re scared you’ll lose your art.

for the monsters we call Fear and Doubt

they want to eat our hearts

but when one feels he’s overcome

his fingers have a weight

too heavy for him to lift them up

the Monster’s have become too great.