When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
This morning,
Life rang my doorbell
wearing a hat made of Tuesday.
I opened the door.
“Why are you here?”
“I'm bored,” it said.
So I let it in.
Big mistake.
It drank my coffee,
ate my last biscuit,
and rearranged my problems
alphabetically.
My worries complained.
Apparently,
they don't like alphabetical order.
Outside, a pigeon
was arguing with the moon.
The moon refused to apologize.
The pigeon called a lawyer.
I decided it was none of my business.
Then I checked my plans for the day.
They had disappeared.
I found them hiding in the fridge
between the milk and my forgotten ambitions.
My biggest mistake was sitting
on the kitchen counter,
wearing sunglasses.
“Don't look at me,” it said.
“I wasn't.”
“Yes, you were.”
By afternoon,
the sun had misplaced itself.
The sky turned pink,
the trees started whispering,
and my shadow announced
it was taking annual leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere without responsibilities.”
“Can I come?”
“No. You're my responsibility.”
Fair enough.
At sunset,
three stars fell into my garden.
One asked for directions.
Another wanted a glass of water.
The third simply lay there
complaining about gravity.
I gave them all a blanket.
Night arrived carrying
a suitcase full of nonsense.
Life sat beside me.
For once,
it was quiet.
“Do you know what you're doing?”
I asked.
Life looked offended.
“Of course not.”
And somehow,
that was comforting.
Maybe nobody has the map.
Maybe we're all walking around
with half a sandwich,
three bad decisions,
a handful of hope,
and absolutely no idea
where the road is going.
Maybe that's the joke.
We keep waiting
for life to explain itself,
while life is busy
stealing our socks,
moving our furniture,
and hiding tomorrow
under the bed.
So tomorrow,
if Life knocks again,
I'll let it in.
But this time,
I'll hide the biscuits.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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