Poetry Blogs (2020, shakespearean Sonnet)
I am the scythe that cuts through old and young
In cornfields where the idle crows watch on
As scarecrows flap their arms in summer sun
And wonder where the greedy birds have gone
The weeds grow now where once the sharp blade fell
Stealing from us all that we once held dear
There are no devils in this weeping hell
Only children transformed through pain and fear...
Tuesday 24th March 2020 11:43 pm
Sonnet 91 In The Age Of The Slow Departure
Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some like to brag of money that they make
Some just want the power to force their will
Some never choose to give but only take.
And every politician takes a vow
To do the people’s true will without fail
Yet what are all these promises worth now
The desperate cry is screamed to no...
Saturday 27th April 2019 11:31 am
Cursed Be He That Moves My Bones
“Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare,
To dig the dust enclosed here.
Blessed be the man that spares these stones,
And cursed be he that moves my bones.”
How often did I studiously fail
to untangle your brier patch of words.
Encouraged by my teachers to prevail
in setting free the frustrated songbirds,
so that their melody could swell the heart...
Friday 22nd April 2016 3:51 pm