Poetry is...

Poetry is a passing smile.

The waft of your hair,

The touch of your hand.

Poetry is the whisper of the breeze

On a warm summer’s day.

 

Poetry is an act of kindness,

From an unexpected source.

A friendly greeting in the street,

From strangers whom we chance to meet..

Encouraging words on a greeting card.

Picking you up, when times are hard.

 

I overthink my poetry.

 

Life is simple.

Twenty-two thousand days.

And, to coin a phrase,

Its message is sublime,

Be kind to one another,

Whilst there is still time.

 

◄ Murder, Most Foul

Happy Birthday... To Me! ►

Comments

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John Botterill

Sat 23rd Jul 2022 18:44

Thanks so much Stephen A and Stephen G. Glad you both enjoyed it Happy I made you smile Stephen A and, yes, Stephen G, I stole the last two lines from Larkin! (or coined a phrase haha) 😂

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Stephen Gospage

Sat 23rd Jul 2022 16:30

This a beautiful, subtle poem, John, with a universal final message. (Perhaps from Hull?).

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Stephen Atkinson

Sat 23rd Jul 2022 09:51

One of those poems where you find yourself smiling at the end 😁
Lovely stuff, John 🌈

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John Botterill

Sat 23rd Jul 2022 03:41

Thanks so much for your lovely comments Nigel and Holden. 😊 It means a great deal to me. 👍

Holden Moncrieff

Sat 23rd Jul 2022 02:47

A really heart-warming poem, John, and every line rings true! 😊

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Nigel Astell

Fri 22nd Jul 2022 20:50

I always find time to read your poetry John.

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