Boots off by the Milton rug,She brings me lager in a Toby jug.Friday fish ‘n’ chips, stroll by the seaA half-time pie, a cup of teaCobbled lanes and Sunday bellsRoyal pomp and roast dinner smellsRain taps, pointing blameA good old pub relieving painStubborn oak and sceptred blood,Sarcastic wit beneath the floodGlory to God who gaveContinue reading “Toby Jug”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Untouched by Aim
I know of no better life purpose than to perish in attempting the great and the impossible – Friedrich Nietzche
A Beatiful Regret
I could tell by her movement she’d been drinking not drunk, just enough to make a sane man look away. But want was louder than my sense. With every step closer, the smell of cigarettes and french perfume grew stronger. I should’ve run, but the moment was stolen. I knew every touch would later bleed.Continue reading “A Beatiful Regret”
The wee Church in Overleigh Cemetery.
Standing high where the silent sleep,Among the graves the English earth keeps.Sword-cross of stone, a cenotaph stands,Guarding brave souls, the names of this land.Incense drifts on the solemn air,Byzantine chants weave the branches bare.Saint Barbra prays above the grounds,Where life has departed. yet Christ is found.Time meets eternity, the living pass.Faith growing strong in theContinue reading “The wee Church in Overleigh Cemetery.”
Lines
I tried to read between the lines.I snorted them. Still half a bottle of red.The cocaine like the logs – lost to the burner.I have an impulse to run aimlessly.But now I must be the earner.Their forefathers cry to the moon.Bury them at sea.I’ll fight them for my daughter. Defeat them with my sons.What moreContinue reading “Lines”
Six Nations
As winter thors over hallowed groundssix nations wait on thunder pounds.In the cold air – an ancient battle call.In pain or glory – anthems sang loud,anthems stood tall.Red and Blue – marching separate towardthe same fight.Emerald Green or blood stained White.Flowing through the veins – a stubborn pride.A broken line, a wounded stride.Six nations –Continue reading “Six Nations”
Saint Valentine
Before the cards, the wine, the flowers.A courages soul, love has powers.In Romes dark days the faith is banned.A Priest stood strong in loves own hand.In a secret vow of incense flare.Married as one he did dare.In prison he prayed, in death he proved.That Christ is love, love unremoved.So with every rose and poem weContinue reading “Saint Valentine”
Weekend Cheer
Bacon butties, no rush to gotalksport on, time moves slow.Children’s stories gather near,laughing brings a weekend cheer.Wintry walks, the world is right,Saturday hums with golden light.Sunday church bells chime in tune.Soft lit mornings, afternoon.A grace before the week resumes,in weekend cheer the moment blooms.
In a Dark Room
In a dark room breaths breach the silence.The unseen gathers, the gnashing of violence.Orisons, just cries in the wilderness?Fear to gag the wounded soul. Villainous!I reach for a match and the incense burns.I invoke the Jesus prayer. Bravery churns.Incense rising, delivering my prayers to heaven.Peace returns, no best of seven.
The Suffering of the Saints
Midnight chanting – Tears drying in the dark.East face fasting – Seeing no morning – No man apart.Chains now prayer ropes – Not one ask why.Lord have mercy – No light in the sky.Not suffering more – Just suffering towards.With Psalms – Not swords.Aim is clear – Not peaceful.Screaming rage through tears pull.Still suffering towardsContinue reading “The Suffering of the Saints”
Smith Shine Poetry 