Untitled Poem 1

The lights blast on like the sun coming out from the trees foliage.
She waits for the small tinkle of the bell,
Heart pumping so loud, she's scared the audience will hear.
She wasn't this nervous before.

The Blare of music, she didn't hear the bell.
Calming herself, she takes deep breaths no use fretting.
Then the cue of music, she explodes, being the first on stage,
With a cheshire smile plastered on her face.

At theat moment nerves are gond, she owns the stag.
Step after step, posture nor smile faulters.
Her group joins in the flurry of movement.
Strong, yet graceful just as her instructor says.

To the left, step to the right
One, Two, kick, jump and.
Silence from the croud in awe.
Until that one mistake.

She went the wrong way in the circle.
Cursing to herself keeping the smile.
Knows she has to finish strongly.
She does.

Moving on from the mistake
She awaits judgement expecting
A dissapointing mark.
Surprised she finds that she got gold.

M. K. Wilson

Anyone who would like to make suggestions please email me at wilsonsunset@gmail.com or post a comment.

The Art of Writing

So I have come across the conclusion that writing a book is very hard; therefore, I am going to write some poetry and post it! The book will always be writen and I plan on publishing it someday but maybe I should get some poems published first so that maybe I can convince someone to publish my book when it is finished! Later today you will see hopefully two poems. I would love opinions on them so do not hesitate!