Poetry Blogs (2019, poem by chris laverty)

poem by chris laverty (Remove filter)

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A butterfly I thought I saw -

with snow-like wings the field explore;

the smiling grass you flitted on -

your fragile beauty caught my eye -

I then gave chase – with longing sigh -

but blinked then looked – and you were gone.


A spider in its place I found -

poised motionless; beneath – around -

was spread your soft, alluring web,

which with a thousand charms was wro...

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poem by chris laverty

Thoughts on England while abroad

England – I never thought I'd feel

need for your damp and cooler days;

abroad I roam yet wish to steal

          from tiring rays.


Empty these southern climes now seem;

empty the sun, the sea, the leisure,

the passing souls. This former dream

          brings no more pleasure.


These shedding leaves announce September -

the birds depart - I wish to part.


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poem by chris laverty


Ever brush away the sleep

that around the mind may creep -

not the one of lunar hours

when it flies to airy towers,

but the slumbers oft that steal

over waking eyes they seal -

steathly elf that leads it stray,

blind to high delights of day.


As the treasures of the mind

need we seek not far to find -

for in forest, field or hill,

native glows will senses fill


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poem by chris laverty


The sultry day is panting low,

sweet whisperings the breezes blow;

your dew drops glisten in the sun,

swelling with kisses – then - you run -

a crack in the sky - lightning strikes

all of nature's put to terror -

a rain of daggers - flashing eyes -

eyes fixed with a burning blood -

silent the trees now empty lie,

shaken they stand and know not why;

the peeping buds st...

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poem by chris laverty


Spirited upon your wings

realms enchanted drinking brings,

with a taste the sportive elf

glint-eyed lures me from myself,

piping notes on which I flee

far from daily drudgery.


Vintages from caverns cool

cheer both inner sage and fool -

sooth the spirit's civil strife,

nature's binding blood of life:

reds reflective, deep, demure,

weaving warming myths of fur;


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poem by chris laverty


If beauty be a tingling taste of terror -

drink not too deep; for he who tempted delves

in the beyond - may see a place in error

where unimagined horrors find themselves.

A statue once there was – serene its face,

though round it one traced pain - the eyes

were fixed and riveted – a dreadful place

they spoke of - where the weight of ages lies.

His soul was a mosaic incomple...

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poem by chris laverty

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