We are immortals until we die
When our final breath leaves with a sigh.
Our last cuss, sworn
No more we see the dawn
Our bodies abandoned just lie
Soul set free to fly.
Like a bird, take flight
Into darkness or into light?
poetry
All posts tagged poetry
Full of self
Drifting contently
Carefree life
Inflated, never dated
Not deflated
A joy
To girls and a boy
Bringing smiles to faces
As I drift to many places
Earlier today at a wedding
A couple, pledging
A tiny hand released us
Not with a fuss
But with wonder, a little sigh
As we headed high
Into a deep blue sky
Floating forever onward
Over trees, a songbird
Brought up, to a sharp halt
A single branch ensnares
End of journey?
End of life?
No more smiles!
But no!
To a leafless tree, tied
To adorn,
And bring a rye smile
From a soulless entity
To photograph,
To share with others
Hoping to elicit
A final smile.
On the flimsiest of paper
I write from my heart
As a gun shot pieces the air
We met only briefly
But we each knew our heart
A wounded soldier cries
Our dreams for the future
Briefly built in our hearts
My companion alongside sighs then dies
The world is on fire
Like the passion of two hearts
The canon flash lights up the night
If these lines ever reach you
Then it’s the last beat of my heart
The quietening of a drum
You lightened my life, if only briefly
But now a bullet has separated our hearts
I slip into a long sleep
I feel the warmth of your kiss
The beat of your heart
Time to move on now with just one heart.
Through the intricacies of life
Is woven some strife
Unlike the fallen
Whom came as they deemed their calling
To fight a war to end all wars
Remembrance of the dead
100 years since their bodies were shred
A lesson have we learnt?
Never! Still we send soldiers to be burnt.
In a war to end all wars.
Poets spoke, of horrors seen
Of dead eyes that no longer gleam.
Through mud and dirt that boil
Soldiers of boys toil.
We send to a war to end all wars.
Politicians only smile
As broken bodies trudge another mile
Open shell hole graves
Shell shocked minds, vent words through mouths that rave,
about a war to end all wars.
Tolkien, Jones, Sassoon and Graves
Scribe moments of death, men in graves
Save a few that return
Write but we do not learn
And engage in a war to end all wars.
He took his camera to war
To record what he saw
Not what war was about
But what war is.
In secret he took a snap shot
Of comrades dead, a lot.
It’s not what war is about
But what war is.
Bluebells remind me of Spring more than any other flower!
The Bluebell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air:
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit’s care.
Emily Bronte
Winters mist rolled over the hill
Passing through the forested trees
Hauntingly, as a shroud
Moving slowly, no breeze
Winters creeping fingers
Cold and icy,
Like a flowing stream
Wraps around, cold and steely.
Natures drama unfolding
The mist still rolling
Looking to touch
To grip tightly, wisps spiralling.
In the quiet, still morning
Of calm waters and painted skies
A tall story waits to be told.
On the surface of life
Becalmed and serene
The undertow is of strife
Not living the dream.
I drift down the river
To lay anchor in muddy waters
A fool waiting for life to deliver
Or a lamb to the slaughter.
Just floating on tides
Sails curtailed
The breeze just a sigh
No canvas unfurled.
Abandoned in the mouth of the estuary
Just point against the tide
Looking to sea and ecstasy
Alone! And no-where to hide.
Barnacles hidden from sight
If exposed would give fright
No longer in youthful flight
That cannot be right.
In the quiet, still morning
Of calm waters and painted skies
A tall story waits to be told.
Repost!!!!
Dark clouds roll by
Turning Summer into Winter
Rain lashes down
The sky as black as sinter.
Looking for a break in the clouds
A glimmer of blue sky
Rain so loud
It’s covers a maidens sigh.
Under a trees lower branches
She looks for shelter
Raindrops from its leaves
Rolling down Helter Skelter.
Cold drips on her neck
Involuntary shiver
Rain making puddles
Sets her body to quiver.
Dress wet and clingy
She looks at her rippled reflection
Body distorted
Seeking life’s direction.
Tears added to raindrops
Fair maiden looks up in despair
See’s the dark tower
Sharp intake of air.
As she looks upon it
Another lost soul enters
The cries of the lost
As it gets swallowed in its dark centre.