More I the fool, for wasting time, for writing verse for writing rhyme
I should use my time for those who follow, as did Zeus as did Apollo
Like the god of truth and prophecy, I prepare for those that see
There is no secret rendezvous, no tryst, or hidden fond adieu
Just words set out as I see things, my look on life and all it brings
I write of nature how we abuse it, I try to show how we can use it
I write of love, its joy and pain, I write of children who cry in vain
More I the fool to think that I can show the way to happiness
Its in your hands, how things will be, if we succeed if we progress
So take this world, its for the young, not for us poets all unsung
But if you read what I have writ, more I the fool to think to quit
For if one word, one verse, one rhyme, should make you think
More I the fool, I waste no time.
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 3:27 AM UTC
I wake to touch the September morning chill
The early dew glistens in the mornings hue; it softens the low mist that abounds
A fox scurries away after his night of slaughter
Whilst mushrooms make their early morning rounds, only to disappear before the dew dries
As the day takes over from the dawn
Crows proclaim their territory and squabble with the rooks
The last murmurs of the morning chorus end its melodious run
A field mouse hurries away and awaits to coming of the warming sun
This September morn sends a shiver down my spine, its beauty personified by its stillness
My breath, fogs the air like a puff of smoke that mingles with the early morning mist
Only to lose its authority to the surrounding break of day haze
Crunching sounds of each step echos on the frosty grass, leaving a first impression
The only clue that I had walked this way before
Soon many will follow to hide my trace, as in my life, my achievements are marred by those more worthy of recognition
September morn I cry out to you: Be my inspiration, and warm me with your promise of the day ahead
Too soon I will bewail your passing, to soon will Mother Nature cast her winter cloak
But I know you will return once again to thrill me with your splendour
I will awake once more to touch your morning chill
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:56 PM UTC
The deep deep crimson of my rose
hides its sharp protective thorns
to guard against the hand that might cut it
In its beauty, a tear trickles from deep within
to show it has a hidden feeling
from the outside you don't see
the emotions and fears.
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:54 PM UTC
The deep deep crimson of my rose hides its sharp protective thorns to guard against the hand that might cut it.
In its beauty, a tear trickles from deep within to show it has a hidden feeling, from the outside you don't see the emotions and fears.
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:52 PM UTC
Dragonfly with wings of Blue, what makes me wonder just like you
You hover over a yellow flower, mesmerized by her power
I see myself attracted to, the colours of life, just like you
Something bright will pull me in, to take my light deep deep within
Oh dragonfly Oh dragonfly lets savour life, just you and I
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:50 PM UTC
It was our first kiss, nothing wild or licentious just a touch of moist warm lips
Coming together for a fleeting moment then parting
In that instant, a thousand wishes flooded in to fill a void It seems I had been longing for, waiting for, wanting for
My life balanced and tilted towards a happiness I never dreamed could be
We looked into each others eyes not a word spoken
I knew in that moment it was the same for her
A knowing perceptive smile began to form, as I drew her to me and kissed her once more
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 10:48 PM UTC
The day he died his music kept on playing
He lived his life on a plateau of insignificance
Moving from one failed love affair to another
Each time pledging it would be the last
He had only felt true love the one time
A helpless impossible love
A love which had metamorphosed into another kind of love
A love of friendship and compassion
And his music played on
The music was his heart and soul
A kind of music that kindled a fire, within us all
Music of words and feelings, open to all.
Those that listening to the music, those that allowed it to encompass them
Would feel it too
And his music will play on
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 1:22 PM UTC
Women come in many guises its up to you to choose
If you want her wild you will have to accept
The odd deep scratch or bruise
You could pick a hot one, but my friend
Be very very aware
You see you might get badly burnt
And this advice I share
I speak from experience because this is one
Lesson I have sorely learnt
If you play with fire you will, I guarantee get burnt
Why not pick a shy one? You just might be surprised
She might just be a sly one, and pleasing to the eye
To me, I picked a smart one; I like a woman with style
She a woman that can be all of these things
She’s hot and wild; she’s smart and shy,
And she’s very versatile.
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 10:31 PM UTC
I sit at the keyboard and click another key
Another line of poetry
I click again and write some more
Finding lines to explore
Reading over what I write
How will it sound when I recite?
I click again another line
Another verse another rhyme
Lets take a break lets take a rest
Allow my lines to digest
Scrambling words in a new combination
Seeking out for new Inspiration
Fingers hover like a bird
As I click again another word
One more line for this rhyme
Now it’s finished just in time.
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 10:24 PM UTC
The perfume of her hair blurred my senses,
as I took her in my arms, caressed her hips, just so gently
Oh the roundness of her *******
the pure marble white of her skin, the ruby softness
of her sweet sweet lips.
She turned to face me,and with a hand on my cheek,
kissed me once kissed me twice quite passionately
I was mesmerized by her beauty and charms
I love you my darling she whispered
as I carried her off to our bed in my arms.
We made love all night long and then in the morning
There she lay I gentle kiss her forehead
then her eyelids and onto her sweet pretty nose
careful not to disturb her, and in the morning I will wake her
in the favourite way shes love to be woken.
I watch her get dressed and thought to myself
how much more could one man be so wonderfully blessed
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 10:16 PM UTC