Sunshine Bright

Dawning bright, I know you well
you are a friend of mine
Always welcome, never shunned
the warming bright sunshine

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Sea Lane Surfers

By afternoon the wind was up
And the tide was really high
So we drove down to Goring
To watch the surfers fly
Sitting in the cafe there
With a coffee on the side
We had a perfect view
Of the rough and surging tide

Parham Deer

Parham House was closed today
and the deer they knew it well
For they were out and evident
and contented, you could tell
Grazing ‘neath the leafy oaks
in groups and sometimes more
It was quite magical to see
and well worth coming for

Where’s God?

Submitted by Bo Bestvina

.

I don’t find God in the pretty things
So I’ll pass on the bright lights
And glistening teeth

I don’t find God
In performances of consumption
Or in unapproachable beauty and youth

Something Happened

Submitted by Michael A. Walker

.

Pulled from the earth on the cusp of sunrise
A breath of life gushes to the realm
Sent amidst a civil uprising among civilities
Something Happened, light refuse lights of distinct

King on peace shot to eternal peace visualizes
Lights reunite to learn aright
Something Happened, renown of old still opposes
Assumption of favour blinds the brightest of lights

Serving honourably on a broader plain coherently
Marching to a rhythm of one beat Happened
Seven finalizes the journey, civil starts anew
Crow lightly seasoned still the flavour of some..

Two scores and six and still under this dark cloud
Some thinks a curse of storms to avoid acquaintance
Methinks a cloud of witnesses urging onward
Those afore sojourning similitude before crossing over…
.
Michael Walker

Caryopteris

With delicate blue flowers
Caryopteris in the sun
Brings a certain cheerfulness
Enjoyed by everyone

Sunshine back

The week had rained consistently
But when Saturday morning came
Drying all the puddles up
The sunshine came again

Summer’s End

I’m told that come September
England’s summer’s at an end
But I’m not ready yet, I’ll tell you
To say goodbye to my good friend
And I’m pretty sure the sunshine
Is having none of that
As the heat I felt at lunchtime
Made it clear where it was at

The Pigeon Traveller

Met a pigeon on the tube
on the Metropolitan line
Wondered where he might be going
at this rather early time
Several stations sprang to mind
Canary Wharf was one
And Peckham was another
which rather seemed like fun

You can never have too much yellow

You can never have too much yellow
for it’s the colour of the sun
And I’d challenge you to disagree
it’s not loved by everyone

For me that’s going to be the case
for as long as I can see
For it’s synonymous with summer
Where I so love to be

Sand

Submitted by Peter M Burns
.

Sand; Sculptures in history,
It absorbs time, blood and man.
Can hold its breath while the tide
Refreshed,
Waved, and caressed the land.

Pavilion Gardens

In Brighton there’s a cafe
in a garden with a view
Overlooking the Pavilion
(to some, the palace new)

It’s famous for its rock buns
(though today we did decline)
as we are on a diet
with an eye on our waistline

STRAY DOG

Submitted by Gunadevi Rajaratnam

.

Stray Dog they called him,
Got chased away when he came near,
Until they saw his great deed,
He was not treated well.

Broken Love Doll

Submitted by Samnessofself

.

At the worst times.

Feeling discarded like a broken doll.
Waited forever to pour out my soul,

Waited forever for the one.
Waited forever for the dream,
Dream feels so distant, yet so close.

But half in sight,

Half of me might find bliss this I see.

Half fights seemingly endlessly, will it be worth it?

Self speaks of letting half go for now,

Then I refuse.

Beach Breakfast

Saturday morning came and
the sun was nice and bright
A beach breakfast was beckoning
so we rather thought we might
And just as luck would have it
not that far from home
there’s a restaurant right on the beach
(no need to book by phone)

~ Haiku Cyclet

~  Haiku Cyclet

 

Hyperbolic lines

Ratings rant out truthfulness

News media mill

Open Doors, I search..

A tiring day,
with those drenched brows
I walk out
in despair and no hope..

Looking down
at the earthly floor
I look up
for a shoulder for my tears to pour..

Down by the seaside

Spent two hours on the water
beyond the outer buoy
Half a mile or so from shore
moments of pure joy
A gentle swell from rising tides
bobbed me around a bit
Watching sailors from the club
out there enjoying it

THE SECRET

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

always leave them wanting more
no tears, no crying or sad goodbye
just whispered words, a warm caress
and a kiss they’ll long for ‘til they die 

HAIKU: BEWARE OF BRUISING

By Charles Robert Lindholm

He is a flower

#54 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

You

You’ve got all what I want,

I lost everything looking for you,

My heart still wanders in search,

But only you can give what I desire.

Preaching on the Street Corner

You passersby, please stop and stand and hear
About a Man who came to earth and bled,
Whose purpose was to drive away death’s fear.

LONGING…

Submitted by touchstone65

.

All are silent now
Tattooed Moon peeping through clouds,
Insane memory
strange winds…

Close your ravaged eyes
Forgotten innocent childhood
Uncertain hour of silence
Loneliness strangled in the wind…

I’ve fallen in Love with every thought of you

Submitted by zaroffpoetry

.

You’re scent is gone now
gravity kicks me to the floor
far, far away from the knocker on my broken burgundy door
you’re punk rock image
strings unplayed
black leather jacket and fishnets foraging
you’re jagged style stapled to the wall
posters of the preachers with lyrics to preach
swinging switchblades in the mirror
drunk on white pills from blister packs in the mind
image junkie saviour shaking
savour the time we had
make me a disciple in the temple that is you
you’re eyes blue as the clearest skies
clouds beaten to death in a back narrow ally way
long walks down Kyoto roads
you’re too much of a shut in sometimes
bicycle rides under a green canopy of trees
metal mesh wire fence to cage you in
with but a single word singing
break the worlds crumbling
bleed the sun from magma red
harvest a rise in me
golden as the scarecrows sour face
scythe in shaking hands
loaded gun gone off the deep end
8 foot counting and drowning
grating grains of horror at the witching hour
you’re my witch, i’m your hour
percent by volume is never high enough
winged German gypsy
granting wishes and dreams
tearing from your own feathers exposes tattoos
falling faster from the darkness that chases
rolling up my white cuffs and sleeves
it’s going to be a long night

sympathy

With her I cry

My tears roll down the cheeks

She cries for the daughter long lost

I cry for the pain she hides

A place in the sun

Our new bench sun trap captures the sun
right at the end of the day
Surrounded by lavender, it’s just what we need
for a rest from the frack and the fray

Sand

Submitted by Peter M Burns
.

Sand; Sculptures in history,
It absorbs time,blood and man.
Can hold its breath while the tide
Refreshed,
Waved, and caressed the land.