Some words

The soldier

A cold wind blew in from the sea as Private X huddled into his padded jacket and drew his fur hat further down over his ears.

Why was it that he always seemed to pull the cold dark watch? Sitting waiting for an enemy that threatened his Country and all it stood for. 

Private X was a patriot, he wouldn't be standing here if he wasn't. He and all his comrades were volunteers who had rushed to the colours to defend their homeland from the evil that was coming.

His watch neared its end, soon he would be back in the warm guardhouse; then a shot. No warm guardhouse for Private X. No more watches in the cold dark hours, No more defending his home. No more anything.

Blank Canvas

The blank canvas of the day

Lies before me like an open plain

Inviting me forward

Into another day where

The possibilities are endless

Words

Words, words, waves of words

Falling in a jumble onto the Shore

Of the page once blank

Now awash with words which

Trickle down to become sentences

To make sense and become

A poem or a story

No longer just words

But a sensible group to entertain

Or shock, or both