The Swing

I wake in the morning

It’s 4amPeace

A bird sings

When I was a girl

I would get up and go in the gardenAnd sit on my swing

The peace

The dew twinkled on the grass

Like a million tiny fairies

There was magic

Quietly in that garden The swing creaked

As I swung higher and higher


I knew


No worries as a child

Now the chaos of my life is done

Too many things

Too many events

Too many people

Busy it’s been



As last days I seek in peace

None of it matters now

Just peace

Author: rosyhaze

I became interested in poetry about a year ago and try to write about things from my heart that are associated with events in my life or events going on in the World at large or closer to home. I am a visual artist and still am to a certain extent having exhibited some of my work as a visually impaired artist using sponges to paint. I have lost most of my eyesight in recent years to advanced glaucoma and my vision is now very limited I am finding my creativity now evolving in writing poetry and hope to publish my own book of verse in the future. I have a blog page on Wordpress where I share my poetry, art, photography, thoughts and favourite quotes and prayers at

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