Poetry Blogs (2019, sunset)
John Coopey on THE CONTINUING STORY OF THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER (1 hour ago)
M.C. Newberry on THE CONTINUING STORY OF THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER (2 hours ago)
The ones that shine brightest
Only to disappear
And return again
But never in the same light
Never seen the same way
These eyes tell me, don’t look away
Before it’s gone too soon
Sunday 5th July 2020 5:08 am
It was a long summer afternoon
a crackling fire lit the yard
the southern sun was setting
while I strummed my old guitar
It was her way of moving to the music
she captured the glowing cinders in her eyes
she danced with the slightest sway in her hips
and her heavenly body torched my skies
Sunday 14th June 2020 1:02 am
The Last Breath Of Evening
The sky is bruised purple at the last breath of evening
The air stilled from violent storms before the last breath of evening
From the new sunrise and the slow burn of a waking day
Stretching ahead in unknown pleasures to the last breath of evening
A day of honest work and muscles that ache
With the strain of reaching the last breath of e...
Saturday 13th June 2020 2:42 pm
The trees gather at the water's edge,
studying their reflections,
Admiring their own grandeur,
the fine lines of their winter coats
revealed in the pond at their feet,
they murmur approval as they quiver their branches.
I walk amongst them
and worship at their beauty.
The clouds are reflected in the water
and glow as if echoing the opinion of the trees.
Sunday 3rd May 2020 4:29 pm
I took to watching slow dying sunsets
Marking the passing of the dawdling day
The trees casting their stoic silhouettes
Counting the golden currency each ray
bestows upon my mood and mental health
keeping the braying doubts and fears at bay
Accumulating natures gift of wealth
hoarding value like a miser stores gold
a solar bank that aids the commo...
Friday 3rd April 2020 2:36 pm
Diamonds don't impress, they like color
often follow their hearts
from one end of the earth to the other
In the evenings, on a hilltop with a view
the stone they lay on retaining warmth of the glowing red sun
Gathering round of a few closer friends
laughing, basking, and just plain having fun
Old in the soul were they, and young at heart
all believers of a perfect...
Sunday 1st September 2019 11:29 pm
An almost mystic silence
descends on the lambent, lamb bent,
lamb bobbing fields
as the West sinking sun
leaves an early evening light,
the day has almost passed:
the bright pale green of the new larch buds
the rusty pink brown of the budding almond
the gold of a burgeoning dog wood
are set against
the solid darkness of a solitary fir tree
the soft clouds in a...
Friday 12th April 2019 1:40 pm
5th September 2018
on the drive home
the transcendent wonder
of the clear ice blue rimmed with golden pink
and the blackness of trees
Thursday 6th September 2018 9:28 am
My Sunset Haiku  as a Sunset Englyn 
A green flash from the setting sun - and night
Now sea and sky are one
Dusk from the gold orb is spun
Thus this mystic day is done
Where sea and sky meet
a green flash from the set sun
Lighting distant shores
The Welsh englyn unodl union is a straight one-rhymed englyn consi...
Tuesday 22nd May 2018 10:20 am
This is my humble commentary on that matchless Middle Eastern and Indian story-book “One Thousand and One Nights”. Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's symphonic suite of the same name is the perfect musical accompaniment!
Tell me, Scheherazade, how you fled
the evil emir like a bleeding lion,
his twisting, vengeful face now full with
requieted lust; your wisdom shines...
Thursday 19th October 2017 8:34 am
It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,
she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.
Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,
but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.
Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;
the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...
Friday 21st July 2017 9:10 pm
“That fucking Tennyson.”
I caught myself muttering
as I walked along. “Yes,
that fucking Tennyson,
he can organise a sunset
and flake gold better than I can:
and Emily Dickinson,
with her yellow children
at the bars of a gate
closed by her sodding dominie in grey.
And Yeats! That fucking Yeats
wags an ageing tongue at creation
and leaves me ...
Sunday 12th February 2017 10:39 am
a ripple in time
in the muddy waters of life.
Grey faces standing at the bus stop,
A watery sunset glows, pinkly golden,
I walk past and breath life into the scene
with a vapour of hope
escaping from my mouth,
lips stretching in a smile.
Wednesday 10th February 2016 8:06 pm
The searing summer sun
sets on the distant horizon,
in a shimmering heat haze
the careless cumulous clouds,
aglow with crimson incandescence.
Distant twinkling stars
awake in the turquoise twilight sky;
afar and on high.
The end of another glorious day
with promise of more to come.
Days as fresh and gloriou...
Saturday 20th June 2015 10:36 am
The sun is slow tonight, she moves towards
the horizon with care, an uncertain path
because someone is missing.
The sunset will hesitate again, she moves
unsteadily, knowing the colours will be faint
because someone is missing.
The horizon reflects the sorrow in a lake,
my lake, where drowning she takes away our
hurt, because someone is missing.
We nail our friend to a cross, i...
Monday 17th February 2014 9:12 pm
A Step Towards Summer
I look into the mirror’s depthless space,
at what is standing in the shadows cast
by light dimming swift with each day amassed
and passing by me, at a startling pace.
I sprint to catch the future in a chase
that takes me on a journey to the past
and makes me wish each moment used will last
until the day they put me in my case.
Sunday 26th May 2013 1:22 pm
I asked you for the recipe for Lettuce Diabolical;
You turned away and shrugged as if the question was rhetorical.
Your life is filled with every contradiction and perversity,
For one who boasts diplomas from a leading University.
Your shoes, one red one black, suggest a failing in your sanity
And yet the way those babies strut proclaims your cocksure vanity.
Thursday 3rd March 2011 6:02 pm