The found to the seeker

I looked and I found
the word that was lost
and despite everything
it was worth all the cost
for this word is the essence
the 'je ne sais quoi'
the one with a nod
you will say an 'aha'
and with kindred spirit
agree here with me
the word was worth finding
quite wholeheartedly

Sometimes the words

Still and November and grey yet quite warm
to the beach I ventured today
and alone on the shingle with my good friend the sea
stood there with something to say

But the words being stubborn just wouldn't come
so I stood and looked out to the grey
and as high tide turned tail and never looked back
still silent I went back to my day

Sometimes the moments they come and they go
some seized for the moment, some not
and though a beach is a good place to be with no words
it's enough to be calm with one's lot

I’ve been writing

I've been writing now for ages
my pen just can't keep still
and I'm certain that will be the case
for more years yet until
I've lost the plot entirely
and the words, dried up, are done
(I'll rue the day) but then accept
that day has finally come

But I'm pleased to say for now at least
I still write every day
as life it still continues
and has plenty more to say
So that's what I use my words for
to paint the life I see
in all its many nuances
as it evolves 'round me

I STRUGGLE TO WRITE IN CURSIVE

By Charles Robert Lindholm

A Simple
Thoughtless
And Automatic Act
When I Was Young
But Not Now
The Years
And Tears
Have Changed That

Nightwrite II

I couldn't sleep
so wrote instead
to get the words
out from my head
The night was hot
the air was still
and slumber failed
completely 'til
the early hours
and cooler times
when I had written
all my lines

#2 POETRY = REDUX

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

#1 POETRY = REDUX

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

Jemaiku #1

Syllabic sequence crafted
something that I love
for poetic syntax here
in verse to cherish
and to capture life's essence
in just a few words

Something Jack said

"Are you still writing each day"
Jack said and I grinned
for when wouldn't I
like the blow of the wind
For winds are like breathing
I need them to live
and craft them to lines
the syntax to give
The writing my solace
my 'raison d'être'
and the rest you all know
with my poems right there

New book, nice pen

I have a new book
to write poems in
it'll last me three months or so
as I scribble away
writing words by the day
to capture what life has to show

And I have a nice pen
which does well for me
so I ensure I have refills to spare
as although contribution
it's no substitution
to write with a pen without care

Painting Poetry

The poet wrote a poem
to capture what he saw
just a few lines of simple verse
to have and hold in store

As there will be those moments
when as Wordsworth said
vacant or a pensive mood
will be the thing instead

And then there is the pleasure
to recollect those lines
and rekindle just a little
of the moment and these times

The forbidden word

Yes I know it’s a word

which for me’s rarely hidden

yet as I use it so much

my wife has forbidden

But I really can’t help it

so here as a poet

I’ll resist but I’m tempted

so much, don’t you know it!

Place to rhyme

My best words it seems flow freely

when the small hours take a hold

when everything is quiet

and my pen does what it’s told

Relays the words I want to say

about the things I’ve done

about what I am feeling

when I’m happy or I’m glum

Poem found

I found a good word
which would make a good start
at the front of a poem
of which it was part

So I placed it right there
and thought of the rest
and the spaces they’d fill
where they’d look their best

And when it was done
and the order was sound
I read the words back
of the poem I’d found

HER WORDS DANCED

A TRIBUTE TO MAYA ANGELOU
By Charles Robert Lindholm

Her Words Danced
Off The Page
And Made My
Heart Sing

THE MAGIC OF OUR SONG

THE MAGIC OF OUR SONG
By Charles Robert Lindholm

I Was Drawn
Back Into Childhood Memories
As I Listened To The Wind
Whispering Through The Trees

A PRICELESS GIFT

A PRICELESS GIFT
By Charles Robert Lindholm

The applause of the world
dies away
and is forgotten

ALLITERATION ATTACK

By Charles Robert Lindholm

My Words
Will Always
Want To,
Play
Around

With Rhythms
And Rhymes
And Meaningful
Lines

Spinning words

Sought after, captured
the words like a star
Precious like diamonds
and seen from afar
Nurtured and fashioned
committed to pen
falling to page
to ponder and then
when story is told
and deed it is done
the poet can rest
from the words he has spun

Words Waiting

I am an early hour
when the quiet of night
shouts loud
and a pen hovers
heavy over virgin sheets
with words waiting

Beautiful words

The beauty of words
Ones so full of meaning
To capture the essence
Of life so endearing
The palette of poets
To paint and to capture
And bring to the reader
The joy to enrapture

Never Contrite

The problem with writing
So far in advance
Is the tine to catch up
Or not with a chance

And the capture of moments
Which by the time that they see
The cold light of day
Is a vague memory

But it’s a very small problem
To have so I’ll cope
And keep publishing them here
Knowing well that you’ll cope

Bussokuseki week III (Tuesday)

3 of 7

So Tuesday is here
and my week is well started
and now in full swing
But first of a morning here
some time to spend with my words
for they are friends to cherish

©Jemverse

As a tree

1 of 3 in the ‘Tree’ series  from Jemverse

Though I am a poem
I am often as a tree
spreading wide my branches
to the winds and fancy free
Sometimes I am majestic
growing strong and very tall
and other times I’m minuscule
insignificantly small

The middle of the book

I’ve reached the middle of my book
these little friends of mine
carried with me whence I go
and with me for a time

Scribblings out and jottings too
the scratching of my pen
there to capture all the words
at happenstance and when

Lost to time passing

In a small corner I curl
turning pages, I am lost to imagination
oblivious to time passing
minutes meld to hours
And this time is mine
Absorbing words from far away minds
Caught in that beautiful moment
when words caress my soul
with a comfort wholly realised

Seven days revisited #7 (Sunday)

Sleeping
Underneath a
Nice
Duvet
Awaken early?
You wouldn’t, would you?

Seven days revisited #6 (Saturday)

Saturday
Arrives and
Tiredness fades
Until
Refreshingly
Diminished
Another week of
Yesterdays pass