Poetry Blog by Ad Astra
The rusty door knob and the dilapidated door,
falling apart at its hinges.
Brown colour of furniture, unpolished
Left to rot in the corner of the room.
The showcase gathering grey dust
like ominous clouds about to burst.
The grand old auburn piano
playing tunes of doom and gloom.
The sea shell shade of dirt white walls
peeling off like skin does below freezing point.
The spider we...
Wednesday 15th October 2014 5:57 am
Such were the joys,
When we were girls and boys,
That at night when we lay in our nest
Ready for rest,
We were no more seen
Beneath the fair moon beams.
When into play came those rosy lips,
Dews of passion arose in vapoured wisps.
As your fingers lay fitted in mine,
The faithless turned to think of the divine.
And all that was chained in depth and height,
Had broadened, freeing the so...
Tuesday 7th October 2014 6:00 am
As the nineteenth autumn has come upon me,
It’s a whole new world I see.
Treacherous creatures, so often, hush and hide,
And it seemeth to me, a change in tide.
The poetry of soothing sensation has gone,
The glimmering golden glow of the sun is now none.
Some say,’ The Head is battling with the Heart’.
Well ! All Logic has been torn apart.
As I gaze into the vast emptiness
Thursday 18th September 2014 11:04 am
Way passed the sleep hour.
I stand surrounded in surreal stillness.
This moon shy night admits no ray.
Penetrates my mind. A church bell chimes:
And the deadly silence strikes
That deep dark hole of the head.
Nothing is awake.
Yet, something appeals. I know it is out there.
Minutes tick by.
Tuesday 9th September 2014 5:14 am
The leaves are blossoming.
The time of lime green ripeness is here.
They cling onto the branches,
Their tips winnowing in the gentle breeze.
The few leaves which cling no longer,
Rustle on the floor
And are swept away at dusk.
The branches continue to shake
And the leaves, in their vitality and freshness,
Partake in the knowing, changing course.
Friday 5th September 2014 9:42 am
A sky for a blanket .
Blue and light blue, grey and dark grey.
Clouds as moths wavering to and afar,
Circling natures son in the cradled hood.
Ah! Let my breath catch this beauteous scene
Could I escape from you?
I hold my breath to capture this moment
None would need nepenthe.
This slumber of nature has made me hold my breat...
Wednesday 3rd September 2014 1:57 pm