Poetry Blogs (History)

Liverpool Song                    

Liverpool,

A city of wild hopes and dishevelled dreams,

Reclines by the riverside

Waiting for the tide of its times.

A seabound, wavecrowned, tidebound city,

City of white spray and foam,

Crested by gulls, and smiles, and screams,

City on its long way home.

A restless, relentless, unrelenting city,

Troubled by the sou...

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Come down from among the Clouds

Come down from among the clouds and seat yourselves.

I will set plates for y'all. There will be no wooden flatware,

no metal cups, certainly no raggedy napkins. The ceramic

made in China, flatware in the USA, tempered glass in 

Argentina, and napkins cut and sewn by a little old colored

lady in Little Rock, Arkansas, while her great granddaughter

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I rejoice to see that old wood five-bar gate

that still stands guard beneath the ancient beech

to a field sloping gently down the hill.

The gate from an old farm track - now lost to time -

has seen so many seasons, so many harvests pass

and must have known an age of scythes and stooks

of horse drawn harrows, ploughs and wooden carts.

What could it tell of the village...

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