Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
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I don’t ask for much in life I settle for the least A bed to sleep in, warm at night And now and then a feast A little exercise most days In the garden, out the back Some water there to quench my thirst And perhaps. sometimes. a snack
I got to thinking Life’s too short for anything else save that I ought to do and think and be about and nothing else there is no doubt
Stepped on a crack in the pavement of life And heard something chasing me Turned and saw the bears of the night Bricked it, suddenly Ran so hard I thought I would die But the bears were still hot on my trail Panicked, I thought of a way to be free But thought it would probably fail
I once knew a penguin called Percy He was a good friend of mine He lived in a hole in the garden And came out when it was fine When the sun shone bright in the sky overhead He came out of his hole in the ground And we’d chase each other in the garden Around and around and around
Whatever you do, Whatever you take Whatever you see, Whatever you make Whatever you carry, Whatever you use Whatever you give, Whatever you lose Whatever you love, Whatever you cherish Whatever you hold, Whatever you perish Whatever you tarnish, Whatever you clean Whatever you muster, Whatever you glean Whatever you think, Whatever you feel Whatever you break, Whatever you heal You are, as am I, not simply whatever But really quite special, so never say never
Lurking fog and drizzle falling the sea a greyish green Waves like monstrous ogres rising tossed by winds unseen Alone on dampened shingle taste of salt upon my lips Braced to ocean’s vigour gazing out to windward ships I am the only audience for this winter serenade A symphony composed for one perfect and uniquely made
Lightest of breeze, Sea in the air Sounds of children playing down there Green on the shingle, Cabbage White Occasional bird in lazy flight Blue of the sky, blue of the sea White wispy clouds, soft buzzing bee Shimmering distantly Worthing pier Sometimes hazy, sometimes clear Moored on horizon, fishing boats Whilst nearer in shore swimmers float Out to the east is Brighton’s sprawl High in the air a seagull’s call Perfect now the weather’s fine Lancing Beach in summertime
Show me a colour, one that describes me Look at my face – the colour behind my eyes It cries for the sun and pines away on these rainy days Curled in a ball and shivering, It longs for a blue that paints the skies I have a paintbox here somewhere; it has a bright palette One I have used many times, mixing over and over as old and dusty colours lend their way to young ones bright and new Blending easily with the marks I have made
In the sand we saw footprints that led to the sun and we followed them true for a while but then a distraction called from one side so we scurried away with a smile But the smile of distraction soon turned to a frown and could never hold us for long as we realised its shallow deception and grew tired of its welcoming song
Two springtime trees, unfettered she moves there with the breeze through branches stretched, awakening with budded fresh green leaves She embraces for a sweet caress touching all she sees her warming breath of soft sunshine from winter's pale white knees She rises to that warm embrace as tears are swiftly freed replaced with Springtime's cheery smile as with new life she breathes
The winter’s shadowy clouds have past And Summer’s child is here To warm the cockles of our hearts And fill our eyes with cheer Summer’s child is pure and free Her breath is fresh and new Her hands give life to grass and tree Beginning summer true
Dog walkers walking with plenty of dogs some running free some on leads the river meandering down to the sea with ducks hiding there in the reeds A grey sky above but the chill is now gone and there's no wind at all here today There's even a hint of blue through the cloud out there in the spread of the bay
At the cusp of a day an arm wrapped around shoulders and squeezed Calm descended as clouds parted to a brightness unseen and all was well
I am the first thought flowing to paper as the poet sees the yellow of a morning sky outside I am the first breath as a night of slumber ends and rejuvenation leaps to inspiration for the new
Wrapping arms tightly around the grey cloud in the sky the sunshine warmly smiled saying 'no more need to cry' 'You're done today, your tears have fed the world down there below but now it's time to rest and let my smiles now gently glow'
If you're reading this now on the day it appears on line on the web you will be in arrears For most of the work that I publish each day comes from the past in a meaningful way
When you're under the weather and feeling quite ill and you're not at all sure if you're quite yourself still and everything aches and all energy's gone and you can't string two words together for long You know that it's time to stay warm in bed and let sleep the good healer do its stuff instead as though at present it's naff and you're not feeling clever you know you'll get better and this won't last forever
Found a field of snowdrops along the Pilgrim Trail it was a wonder to hehold and latterly regale So much so that we all paused to take pictures for a while as this little slice of heaven was a thing to bring a smile
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