Author - Jonathan Avis

Focus Poems... Real Stories



Copyright © Focus Poem  2015 | All Rights Reserved

The cigarette which smokes,

smoked by me or perhaps by you too

creates a mysterious mist of her majesty

the wind which blows through the trees,

the creaking and cracking of the branches

speaking to me.

The leaves which rustle beneath

the ash at my feet,

being a feat of nature so wonderful yet ignored,

we need to explore and open that door,

explore my child.

See your father, I am here with you, I hear.

Cigarette Smoke