Pen, paper, rocking chair and a match, It’s time to create inspiration to catch. Like a river it’s flowing what’s deep within bursts out, Like a thief for his life, from the gallows, I shout.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Your lips
I labour, hands in dirt, hot sun on my back. All I have to offer is my heart, in this month of your zodiac. It’s the first day of the week, the sun is beginning to set. I search for words and metaphors, yet your lips, the goal i’ve set.
Cretian air
Her hair waved in the wind with the red ensign. The waves elated like a soul with rhyme. It was warm, dusk closer to night. Poets time, when angels visit to help bards write. Aside of me and her, and the warm Cretian air.
we touch the unseen
In these peculiar times I realise every action counts, as this wave in me mounts and mounts. It’s unclear to see what’s rising with the sun from over the horizon, nor what to me you even mean. But I do know together ‘we touch the unseen’.
Thoughts in her Covid
She bowed to the crown of this viral pneumonia, she thought on chinese doctors in chinese labs, on Wuhan city on 5g masts. The medical scales of the pangolin embroil, the bat in the pot not quite at the boil, she is dead the thesis not, more to this truth we know not.
Liberate me
Shrouded in the smoke. On It’s silver cloud I wish to float away though here I’m succumbed nothing free, not he, not me, So stroke my heart and help me fight, as I lose the light from the dark of night liberate me from this state of mind liberate me from this place in time.
I awake
I awake in the calmness of tranquil poetry protected in love time losing all grip over me music notes dancing in a gentle summer breeze i’m like a loose leaf from a tree not care roaming free
The feast of St, George
Never to recant his faith in the Lord. Advanced, gifted with the sword. Soldier of the Christ. Fought courageously in belief. compelled evil to hell as angels roared in raw relief. Onwards to the realm. Converging from afar with Godly squall and brush of helm. Under his pennon they forge. Chanting ‘Jerusalem’ for the feastContinue reading “The feast of St, George”
I will cry
I will cry, until my tears overflow the rivers and become lost to the seas. I will cry, until the deserts thirst is quenched and raindrops drip life onto the barren. I will cry, until the angels pluck a melody onto my poetic chords and carry me home to rest. Alone, I cry and likeContinue reading “I will cry”
Flames of promises
She’s left much more behind than a single blonde hair on my pillow. Inspiration oozing, like rain overflowing the leaves of a willow. Feelings unchained as her absence is felt. Flames of promises ignited from a kiss. This night everything what’s known about her, I miss.
Smith Shine Poetry 