Poetry Blogs (2019, childhood)
I walk with my little son
He would follow me to the edges of the galaxy
Just to tell me his story of his love for reality.
He waits for my return
Then tells me he misses me
With a smile, a cuddle and kiss that reminds me he’s here in this world.
He gives me tasks to do
While playing in the evening
Then I read him a story
Way past bedtime.
We walk in the morning
While he points out...
Monday 2nd December 2019 11:29 am
The salty sea spray sprinkles my skin,
like summer showers
I stand in front of a crust forming at the edge of the beach
Splintered, softened wood
Shiny when wet
Like common jewels
Topaz, ruby, emerald, turquoise, coral pink, terracotta
All there for the picking
All at my feet
Wednesday 13th November 2019 5:07 pm
I value you
A soul protected
guard you like a delicate rose petal
words do not describe your existence
you give me reason
every decision I make
is with your best interests
you are my life
you are deep my son
you are vulnerable
you may not know it
nor may others not
but it's in your name
My clear cut high carat diamond
unbreakable like a diamond
April Spring Diamond
Thursday 12th September 2019 2:16 pm
I was born in nineteen forty four
When black and white films were the norm
And the black and white bloody world war
Was in the last bloody phase of its storm.
But what does a babe know of such things?
A mother's breast is all that it cares.
Her steady gaze to bask in,
Her voice to soothe its tears.
As child I saw the bomb torn sites,...
Wednesday 5th June 2019 9:55 am
You neglected me,
didn’t protect me,
chose an abusive man
over your children...
I forgive you.
I give you the
never afforded me,
because I love you
and I don’t want
the past having
power over me.
Thursday 16th May 2019 9:35 pm
On her mother’s stone step, she sits and dreams
The same step she cleaned and crossed so often
Her dress, crisp and clean in the sunshine gleams
This backstreet beauty, rare rose in blossom
What whims flicker through her wandering mind
Perchance what prospect does life hold in store
Will her journey be gentle not unkind?
Shall her story be one of less not more?
Wednesday 8th May 2019 10:36 pm
They never changed that room.
Dolls, teddy bears, trains,
And transformers all hold space,
Lock time in perpetual stasis.
When death comes life stops.
Family said they should pack
Things away. It’s too hard
To be reminded day after day
Of a future lost in the past,
But a room can be a memorial.
It’s a museum of childhood,
Until a child of a later
Generation discovers it with
Thursday 18th April 2019 5:47 am
There were borders everywhere
Borders of water, of steel, of brick, of money and of mind
Borders that were meant for defining, for declaring lines you and others could not cross
Over the sandstone brick wall, across the railway line lived the park people
Snotty, scabby looking folk – they feared to tread on our turf; most did
They had the club and the park, we invaded them at w...
Thursday 11th April 2019 10:17 am
When you’re born in the shadow of a mountain
You know the warmth of the darkest of shade
You know nothing will ever rise above that mountain
In whose image and shadow you were made
When cast in the shadow of a mountain
Your caste can feel defined before birth
Your path may seem predestined and written
As your feet struggle to impress in the earth
But there’s a com...
Wednesday 10th April 2019 8:26 pm
it were cracking’t pavements
the sky were chelsea blue
you were sucking cider
from an ice lolly
cos they said it made yer drunk
and we pretended it did
when yer scored a goal
on’t hay coloured pitch
yer mates were hot ‘n sweaty
and their celebrations
trickled down yer back
and salted yer lips
there were standpipes
at end’er sherwood...
Wednesday 10th April 2019 12:36 pm
One of my favorite games
to play as a child
was seeing shapes
in the clouds:
It was one of the
of my childhood.
As I grew up,
I began to see
Now in the archway
of my golden years,
I see beauty that
brings me to tears:
Sunday 17th February 2019 7:18 pm
Ive seen the smiling beautiful faces of precious youth
Taking fear and horror by its loathsome breath
Who washed themselves clean of its stain
With nothing more then countless courage
And disdainful acts of random kindness.
Ive seen the happy gentle porcelain faces of our very best
The ordinary made extraordinary by the casually vile
Who stared into the face of blackened ...
Sunday 27th January 2019 7:45 pm