“This poem’s speaker removed from what he describes his feelings unattached” He stood leaning against the saloon door Black Stetson tilted to one side A wicked side glance stare Thumb of right hand firmly placed In a well supported brown leather holster His frame skeletal A rough grey/black beard not quite hiding a deep scar […]
Tag: Poetry
Turning his eyes to the highest heavens
Communing with nature Its beauty, as he grows into old age Leaves but vague memories Resting on a stile, standing in a country lane Listening to silence Walking through meadows, dog at heel His youthful eyes now tired He lives on vague memories. Youth of today rush, rush, rush Suddenly they can no longer catch […]
There is grey in his hair
Sunrays breaking through feather light cloud Bouncing mirror like on the calm lake waters He lay chin in hand on a bed of rock admiring the view Purple heather, yellow gorse, multi colourd wild flower Peeping through green and sun bronzed wild grasses Soul electrified he celebrates the spirit of the countryside Away in the […]
We are wise old owls
On Gods spacious canvas, poetic thoughts he writes A wrinkled smile each morning Wills him from his pillow He pauses for breath Walks arm in arm with his forever lover Follows the sunlight from room to room The pattern of life becoming fragmented It’s going to be alright they assure each other. (c)Poetry from The […]
Wishing fond goodbyes
In spite of everything, the moon goes down, sun rises His timepiece stops, yet time moves on His phone now silent Does mans best friend know what the matter is? They gather around the silk lined home Why do they whisper? He is not listening? Downcast in a flood of remembrances they stand While his […]
A one line poem
At close of day they appear, a murder of crows. (c)Poetry from The ManShed 03/09/19
Continuously sowing the seed
Through the raindrops at dawn A pale shy sun peeps from behind moving clouds The shrouded landscape, an invitation to sit and write Write silently, speak aloud The perfect poem – if there is such a poem To be perfect, will harbour many takes Filled with exuberance Dwelling on the mystique he recalls, stories of […]
In the after life
What would he most like to be – a saddlebag poet Travelling from village to village On the back of a sturdy mare Moving among deep silences Sheltering against inclement weathers Entertaining folk from near and far Listening to dialogue without seeing their faces. (c)Poetry from TheManshed 02/09/19
01/09/2019
Now, the whisper of Autumns voice Petals fall from the last rose of summer Days shorten while nights expand For some, the bark of black dog becomes louder Autumn moon, white in an ink black sky Waves of summer heat, but a memory Through a hazy stillness a new dawn is greeted Autumns shadow throws […]
Haiku
Squeezing that blackhead Bathroom mirror steams over Scented candles burn (c)Poetry from The Manshed 31/08/19
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