Poetry Blogs (dreams)

To wake lit by that lunar light

Toiling from the depth of dreams

Misty minded from the night

So the distant land below the window seems

Illusory

To see beyond the shaded hedge

Hear again the whisper soft

As bedewed we walked, that ghostly pledge

Those lovely echoes of a distant past yet waft

Silently

To sense again her presence there

Knowing how we walked at ease

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Blistering weather withers

As cooler climes take over

Reflecting

Revealing the emptiness that surrounds

Pervading the hollowness that echoes

Like an empty cavern

Floating through a ravine of longing

Waiting

For the improvements that signal

Recuperation

Regaining the equanimity

Of our own circle of life

Holding fast to passions and fancies

Foibles and follies

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I sat all day in the corner

awaiting a call on the 'phone

but when it came through

the voice that I knew

was nowhere at all in the room

The nurse that called me much later

knew where I was travelling to

but she never heard

the call of the bird

that flew in my traveller's dream

The doctor gave me some drugs

to keep the malaria down

but the pills that I ...

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I made you walk

I made you talk

I moved to your side slowly

turquise eyes were no surprise

but I'm so sorry

I never knew what you've been through

but if I knew, I'd carry you

but is that what you would want me to do?

You are of my '80s dreams

but the '80s are over

away from you away from you

You are of my '90s dreams,

but it's not the '90s don't I know...

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Above The Light Of The Morning Star

Pity the dark eyed man who chases sleep.

Yet, pity more, the man who finds that realm

and dances with his friends, long gone,

then wakes to find such loneliness in his heart.

A father’s hand laid gently on his shoulder

or a mothers kiss to say farewell on leaving.

These are the magic lanterns

of the ghosts that are their ghosts.

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A Flight of Fancy

Imagine to be an aviator

To leave terra-firma and fly

To unlock the shackles of gravity

Be weightless, and reach for the sky

John and Macko were only thirteen

So how could they dream such a thing?

Two working-class lads, from Grimstone Low

With ambitions to take to the wing

They were both academically average

And failing at school, it ...

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A series of 11 short poems

End of a Galaxy

A blink

In the silent depth of night

As the last leaf of the beech tree

As the silent tear of my love

End of Harmony

I see her dancing on the sands

I see her                                     as she sees me

and in that moment

sand, sea, sun, surf

vanish in the vortex

until

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waking

in their bed

beneath the slates  

waking

as in a dream

slowly aware

waking

completely

waking

in the window airs

waking

in the hush

of the night

palely lit by her lucent light

the night

calls to him

and he walks out

the night

absorbs him

summer dew wet on his feet

her cool breath on his naked flesh

the quiet mysterious night

s...

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As I grow, I see many places to live by
I see the true nature of life,
On how doll and peaceful it can be.
But what is life without sorrow?
What is life without dreams of the melancholic soul? 

Just a thought of a restless mind. 

-G.N.D

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My love, I need you.

Here I am falling in love with the beauty of the world.

Waiting for you, as if it were the end of the world.

I do not mind the wait,

I have the time.

But I have to be honest,

I need you.

I've felt you before,

and that's fine

Someday I'll see you,

and I'll know.

And even if you do not know, it's fine.

I have love to give and loves will ...

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Down on the beach
I took your hand
And we walked along the sand
Then bare foot we paddled 
By the ebb of the tide
Then climbed over the dunes
And I kissed you there
In the afternoon sun
When the heat was at its strongest 
I held you in my arms
And felt your heart beating
Next to my own
I could have so easily got lost in your eyes
And there is nowhere else
That I would rather be
Than...

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Daily Howl

A quiet boy -

he painted rainbows,

got lost in the words

of ancient poets,

spoke with respect,

offered up his seat

and his place in the world

to the unfortunates.

He smiled,

he laughed,

he spoke in words

of love and peace

with passion

and humility.

His voice

a pacifier.

Sometimes,

when the world was cruel,

he cried

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Winter had arrived
after the rain…

The sounds of their footsteps
on the softened ground
travelled gently…
Beyond the window pane…

In bed…Half sleep,
with the fresh winter light
warmly caressing his face…
Softly kissing his lips…

The artist wished for a dream…

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My dreams they have died
Buried deep within myself
Hope to renew them

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I want a smile

That appears unknowingly.

One that spreads across his face,

Like the sunset in the sky,

Every time he hears my name.

I want eyes

That won’t turn away

When I show my scars.

Ones that can see

Through the walls I put up.

I want a voice

That will support me

And encourage my dreams.

One that knows what words

Will bring me back to realit...

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Fall on the way side in the afternoon.

I sob now besides the hollow tree,

The oak,

Bare.

Your darkened hair recedes into the heavy mist,

Your eyebrows sliver into scattered sunbeams.

Away from me.

Lost in the bitter goodnight,

Hollow in acknowledgment,

The dirt moist from the heavy rain before it.

The image of you flakes,

In my mind,

Rui...

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In the grey cloudlight of a pre-dawn moon

something stayed my dream

a stray insistent noise heard through sleep

the uncertain call of the hunting owl:

I am knelt naked at the window -

beneath, the frosted grass glimmers in the pale creamglow

hazy through the early swirls of mist

but not a shade or waft disturbs the spectral scene

although my flesh seems chilled by some slig...

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This old farm cottage of mine

keeps all my years safe

for it knows my secret ways

and remembers

There are shadows in the shadows

but in some rooms

my sons have hidden smiles

to lead me in

There is more solitude indoors

but here and there

she has retained a past caress

to warm me

The old mirror we found at market

still retains her ghost

which...

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Why don't you kill me
By the speed of light
And forget those times
When evenings vanished
On our wet heads
And when we together
Sighed so much that
We were prone to break

Let me hold you
In my endless arms
Where I will lose you
In the depth of Love
And I will find you
Again in the dreams
The dreams those
Crave for my sleep
In my sleepless nights

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A poem about getting old... and staying young.

May I Never      

I may never rule the world with theories so fine

May never run past Bolt, smile and duck across the line.

I may never meet Mandela, Obama or the Queen,

I may never solve all wars, or stop leaders being mean.

I may never reach a hundred, run for thirty miles,

I may never help the hungry, turn their cries to happy...

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