Memoirs

As I lay here

This is my favorite piece of poetry I have ever written.

August Raindrops

As I lay here, 
closed eyes, drifting away, 
rid of time,
buried in thoughts.
lost in memories, 
drowned in nostalgia, yet
aching of tomorrow's dawn.

As I float away, 
softly, gently, but swiftly,
my mind knows no prison, 
my imagination ever unbound, 
these words a stream, 
these fingers stroke the keys,
this screen mine reflection.

Here I build castles,
higher than the Babel,
shinier than sea glass, 
carve these stone walls, 
polish the wooden doors, 
anchor my terraces,
color these roofs teal.

What are the borders?
between my dreams and the future?
detaching my hopes and reality? 
between my whispers and my writing? 
separating my fears and my bold?
As I paint my dreams and future, 
I notice my reality has merged in. 

Sharon Jepng'etich





View original post

Short stories

The Old Colonial House in the Woods

He opened the curtains. It was a cold frigid morning. Grey skies mirrored his mood. He wished it would rain. He could drown in the rain. He could race in it and maybe catch pneumonia. He closed his eyes and imagined the feeling. The congested chest, the difficulty breathing, the promise of death just a… Continue reading The Old Colonial House in the Woods