Kneeling at the window as if in prayer
He looks out at the night
The surrounding trees are black shadows
Barely seen against the indigo of the sky
No stars shine tonight
But an unrisen moon lightens the air a little
With an almost imagined spectral light
Somewhere over the distant lake an owl calls
And calls again
A late moth blunders against the open window
Wednesday 18th July 2018 12:40 pm
There is always a poem after this one;
the understudy to today's centre stage:
This poem however, is never unimportant,
it is as individual as the poem that follows;
many written poems have unwritten forbears-
each poem is breathed and lived; rarely spoken.
The panorama of this poem is found in one place –
the window of its reader's imagination;
so each poem is the beginning point
Tuesday 20th March 2018 11:13 am
I might make you laugh, but I might also make you cry,
I might give you answers or make you question why.
I can look so serious or sound really quite absurd
I am divine unseen pen pictures designed to be heard.
I will make comparisons to shine a light inside your heart
I’ll begin our stories with with an epilogue or end them near their start.
My language can be quite colourful, yes I have be...
Friday 22nd September 2017 7:37 am
Saturday 12th January 2013 1:54 pm
when the clack of keyboards cease
and pages of unbound books
scattered by the indolent breeze
produce a melancholy dirge
think of all the unwritten words
that remain stillborn in the mind
much like the gilded pheasant
out of the snare and into the fire
Please make your response or comment on my profile page. Thank you.
Saturday 22nd January 2011 10:26 pm
Cry we all toward places unnamed
Rise above the crested hills
Yell we will - shattering door frames
Plundering thoughts of plovered wills
Tear at the wallpaper - reveal the grain
Ink the slate - etched by wound-dipped quills
Crouch, prowl - ready to pounce on game
Brandishing swords, blaring trumpets shrill
Arching backs, phosphorescent wicks aflame
Ridding netted fish o...
Sunday 19th December 2010 2:32 pm