Archive for ‘Anne-Marie’

August 11, 2015

Switchback, Musette poem

by scottishmomus

Poetry challenge: Musette poem

Switchback

for adventure

we lack

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July 22, 2015

Logophile

by scottishmomus

I’ve touched those words before now,

They reached and asked me to,

Tongued with tenderness their tone,

Words command of you,

Turned the pages where they live,

Leafed and loved them too,

When joy they’ve given, I give back,

The least that I can do.

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July 9, 2015

Supple With Strength

by scottishmomus

Stunted and blunt,

Some boughs of a tree,

Poor limbs pruned till ends reveal scars,

Sealed for protection,

Sad cry from full-blown,

Stalwart, tho’ hindered, life marred.

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June 13, 2015

Achilles’ Lips

by scottishmomus

No subtlety

In loosest lips

Words that sunk a thousand ships

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June 11, 2015

How Be It Dream

by scottishmomus

If, in inner eye

of languid 

somnolence

is felt

is seen

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June 4, 2015

On The Case

by scottishmomus

0022.Cluedo1965Board

(source)

Will you please send it back if you find it,

I don’t know where it’s gone but I suspect,

And Cluedo-like I’m searching in distinct rooms,

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March 3, 2015

Legacy

by scottishmomus

It’s okay to steal the flame and run

From gods, a-hunting down audacious

Mercy given, gift of heaven,

It’s okay.

It’s alright to burn your fingers,

Singe a little, give a little, carry some

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February 20, 2015

Sailed

by scottishmomus

that ship

has sailed now

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February 20, 2015

Here, There, Anywhere

by scottishmomus

moon and other

 

It’s lonely on the other side of

somewhere,

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February 20, 2015

People Do

by scottishmomus

I soothe your fevered brow if it is wanting,

You read me books to while away the hours,

He feeds you broth and silences the phone calls,

She tempers any tantrums, treats the sores.

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February 19, 2015

When She Dances

by scottishmomus

I don’t hail coincidence

as fellow-well-met,

Too astounded at odds,

what’s the chances,

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February 19, 2015

Lip Service

by scottishmomus

Mists linger on the corners of the city where he lived,

Rolling in and round and clinging on,

Legacy of fog where Wilde was wont to drift,

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