Moonbeam-caressed Elven faces, the most noble of races,
Clad in grey and silver, spellbound I am a humble follower,
Voices that are musical salver, proud to be an evangelical believer,
Honour these cherished spaces! their protective carapaces.

We humans may scale the heights of Mount Erudite,
Firmly fixing the banner of lore and learning,
But we lack wisdom for all our striving,
Only Elves possess this, the true intelligence, their birth-right

Salvation lies in the power of our Elven blood,
The tiniest drop can help reclaim our lost innocence,
We must strive and strive, no time for dalliance,
Time to purge our hearts, cast aside our cynical hood!

Their purity is our forgotten childhood,
Swept aside by our brutish spirit, ****** and colonial,
True happiness is not measured in the material,
Believe in the healing air of their sainted greenwood!

Decay is afoot in this blessed wood, ignorance of what is good,
Malice has many a shape, hides even in a benign landscape,
Once bitten there is no escape, snared by death’s drape,
Fear of the misunderstood, jealously of nature’s brotherhood.

Sadly, the visible world is full of deceit,
Forsake not the Elves! take that spiritual window-seat!

            © Robert Porteus

Around and around he/she goes, it matters not which,
Often alone, in constant struggle against the current,
Understanding may elude even the most observant,
A weary battle, for calm waters never within reach.

Our swan may be one-legged, but is forever beautiful,
He/she is so proud to have young to attend,
It would be my honour to befriend,
Surely fraught lives can still be meaningful?


Circling seemingly forever, more so than his kin,
Despair and tiredness in equal measure,
Magnificent plumage masks hard-fought treasure,
Never at rest, alas no hope of a stand-in.

Our hawk may be one-eyed, but is forever beautiful,
He is so proud to have young to attend,
It would be my honour to befriend,
Surely fraught lives can still be meaningful?


Awkward gait, will not diminish his endeavour,
A daily struggle against hunger,
Constant anxiety yes, never anger,
Here, there and everywhere, whatever the weather.

Our blackbird may be wing-damaged, but is forever beautiful,
He is so proud to have young to attend,
It would be my honour to befriend,
Surely fraught lives can still be meaningful?


Few achieve physical and mental perfection,
True humanity is to cherish ALL with utter conviction.


© Robert Porteus

The radiance of a raisin-hued sunset, mmmm begs to be devoured,
Surpassed only by the sun-kissed swish of your hair,
Freeze-dried mouse **** takeaway coffee, yuck never savoured!
Liberate that unwrapped shiny percolator from its cupboard lair!

A risen sunrise, nature’s soufflé, how delicious!
Matched only by your uplifting starlight smile,
Tooth destroying shop cakes, rock-like and dangerous,
Shamefully neglected family recipes, go on worth a trial!

A silvered-moonrise over a dappled seascape,
The equal just, of the bewitching tint of your eyes,
Inappropriate Use Of Capitals, Sadly There Is No Escape,
Poor education or the tyranny of Media Ignorance I surmise.

The magnificence of a frosted night, behold a starry-symphony!
Rivalled by the musical grace of your dance-like movements,
Other people’s mobile conversations, ill-mannered cacophony,
Full of their self-important pompous little moments.

The surreal eerie calm after a summer thunderstorm,
Mirrored by the eternally sunny charm of your blessed being,
The despicable litter of our fellows, their squalid pitiful art form,
From self-respect and consideration, perpetual fleeing.

An enchanted stroll through aromatic Springtime pastures,
Joyously refreshing, worthy reflection of your beautiful soul,
Sad humourless beings, their perennial blank-eyed gestures,
Barren and wasteful, a merciless lifelong own goal.

© Robert Porteus

Pride should not prevent a pious Blind Pilgrim,
From accepting a meal with a wealthy camel trader,
Fear should never deter Love’s Crusader,
Even if the battle ahead is tough, ****** and grim.

Envy, a curse and pandemic through the ages,
Must be faced and fought with steely determination,
Gluttony is the hideous blight of our generation,
That shames us daily on television and the news pages.

Compassion is in chronic, worldwide shortage,
A sin that it is rationed, begs to be a universal gift,
Charity begins in the heart, should never be cast adrift
Humbled, to the needy we should pay due homage.

It is perilous that we give up on hope,
Without it our futures will be perennially bleak,
Cruelty has many forms, the preserve of the weak,
That may torture an innocent into a bloodied coil of rope.

Avarice is the unremitting creature of our downfall,
Lures us into a riotous Palace of Lies and Deceit,
Resolve always needed to keep step with life’s drumbeat,
Falling behind, may jeopardy a joyous windfall.


© Robert Porteus

His drumbeat was my closest pre-teen companion,
A rock-hymn that echoed down the years,
Sometimes smooth jazz swing, sweet balm to my ears,
He gave voice to my batsqueak rebellion.

Always suave, simply the best dressed gent ever,
Manners as impeccable as his attire,
Through good times and bad, never thought to retire,
Will we see the likes of him again? I think never.

With a drum-roll the Pearly Gates open,
To be lauded by rock-icons tearfully summoned,
All hail! Your star will shine forever as the brightest diamond,
Farewell Charlie Watts, so many hearts lay broken.

© Robert Porteus

Statuesque, cocooned in a living-goat of many colours,
Fastened by multi-hued cloven hooves,
‘Approach without fear, do not listen to rumours’
‘I am learned in lore and wisdom, a parting gift from the Elves’

I nervously approach, what shall I call you?
‘Name? so many, but call me Mother Earth’
‘I am the embodiment of all that is pure and true’
‘The virtue of flora and faunae from their living-birth’

You knew Elves! I am full of envy and wonder!
‘Yes, for many years, hundreds by your measure’
I once thought I caught a glimpse, made me shudder!
‘Do not try too hard! their spell is dangerous treasure’

Surely not! they are renowned for their kindness,
‘No! the danger lies in your malign-heart’
All I want is a quick peek, I have faith in their goodness,
‘Very well, come back tomorrow, go it is getting dark’

Sunrise beckons, into the woods I eagerly creep,
‘Do your parents know you are here?’
No! they have eyes only for my baby brother! makes me weep!
‘Step into the light, and see what will appear’

Imagine my surprise, before me my sobbing parents,
‘They are distraught, thinking you have been spirited away’
But, I haven’t! I only desire a few moments,
‘Even a brief visit will condemn you to be forever lost and astray’

‘What you see is their perpetual abjection’
‘Your jealousy is corrosive and spells mortal danger’
‘There is a hard choice, Elves and no way back, or their salvation’
‘You forget the intense glow of their love around your manger’

© Rob perspiring-poet

They crowd and jostle, the ever-present soot-black jackdaws,
Noisily quarrelsome, never doubting their close-knit kinship,
The unmistakable chatter, raucous like winged chainsaws,
How I envy their warm sociability, and loving courtship,
I long to rip down these walls, to be at one with joyous jackdaws!

I marvel as it hovers, then in a blink swoops, a majestic kestrel!
Without mercy will **** and then **** again,
Do not judge harshly, it has young, this is no callous scoundrel,
No false modesty, reigns supreme amongst aerial stuntmen,
I long to rip down these walls, and plunge like a killer kestrel!

A restless game of hide and seek, hello bye-bye blackbird!
What energy! here, there and everywhere,
Hedgerow or open space, resolute and undeterred,
Never tires, so sleek and debonair!
I long to rip down these walls, to forage with a blessed blackbird!

A silent sentinel of death, the dusk-loving owl,
With all-seeing eyes, unerringly selects its prey,
  Creatures of the night beware! of the habitual hungry prowl,
Razor sharp, rarely do these talons go astray,
I long to rip down these walls, to salute my heroic occult-owl!

I am at peace, I will never leave these walls,
A barred window will be my eyesight,
A glimpse of freedom, before death befalls,
Fly free for me! to satisfy my avian appetite.

© Robert Porteus

Behold merrily dancing eyes! moonrise-hued that delight in surprise,
Waterfall-cascading hair, sleepily stirring from a golden lair,
Heaven-glimpsed in leafy disguise, powerless to resist I surmise,
Elven locks frame an Eden-parterre, a majestic Springtime fayre!

Banished Winter’s-strife, unveiled a collective bursting into life,
Love, laugher and blossom hold sway, a dress-parade in full panoply,
Nimble Elven hands serve as nature’s midwife, their deliveries run rife!
This is no chaotic affray, but the Almighty order we never gainsay.

Their unbridled gaiety I watch in wonder, but I feel such an intruder,
Stiff limbed I shake off love’s-hibernation, a lifelong affliction,
Shall I be welcome I ponder, or will they flee in panic and anger?
Their joyous souls offer salvation, unleashed a grim determination!

A rapturous-smiled greeting! handshakes and hugs - our first meeting!
Blinkers-away restores my sight, from this embrace I must not take flight,
Alas! this is mere wish-dreaming, awake my face is aglow and gleaming!
This kinship-reverie serves to ignite, a joy and happiness so eager to excite.

Gone are doubt-swirling mists, hopeful lips plead to be kissed,
This alluring Elven-dream, lures me into passion’s fragrant-stream,
No more envy-bound wrists, as I fiercely battle loves-duellists,
Folly pursuit of Crusading esteem? no courage with a steely gleam!

My brow burns with the fierce rays of Summer,
My soul plunges into despair, with the decline and fall of Autumn,
My feet are mired in the cloying-clay of a sodden Winter,
But heart-contentment sings aloud with the uplifting beat of Spring!

© Robert Porteus

The piercing starlight in your eyes,
Shines ever so brightly in the deep pool of my tears,
The walls still echo with your goodbyes,
Is there anything or anyone to quell my fears?

Blade-like your icy soul stabs my heart,
And burrows so deep, that I must seek sanctuary,
From beasts that mock, then tear me apart,
Without a fight I succumb to their rabid butchery.

But this is cowardice, remorselessly piled on delusion,
There is no piercing starlight, because there is no you,
My walls echo only with lonely confusion,
No blade has been close enough, to rip my heart askew.

I would willingly embrace this ****** possibility,
And risk all, for just one chance of love.

© Robert Porteus

Et in Arcadia badly bruised ego,
Treeing up the wrong bark, headwards into the trash-can,
My obsessive jigsaw-being, pieces ceased to fit long ago,
Cleverly I snip and cheat, what a charlatan!
My monstrous vanity, how wilfully I let it grow,
Mon Dieu! what a puffy-faced, skin a-sagging conman!

My hallowed education, so proud in my learning,
With near perfect syntax, well sin-tax!
    Embracing any seedy swingers-club, so charming!
About wisdom, the true intelligence, I am so lax,
Ever alone, fearful of any emotional caning,
Divorced from all realities, way too complex!

What now my future, a svelte *******?
Or perpetual bit-part actor, murmurs the jury,
Condemned to be a rough-shod ploughboy,
A mere half-brick in a wall of sound and fury,
No cloistered quad, or brain-storming salvo,
What now a Pedants Revolt, or intellectual menagerie?

The mirror tells no lies,
Ability inexorably led me to something so lowly,
Blindfold no longer, revealed a ruined Bridge of Sighs,
No heady aroma of beeswax and leather, and so lonely!
Unmasked my whole flawed self, which I despise,
Adrift in the cruellest of seas, so vile and unsightly

The mirror tells no lies,
No more deceits, and surely no surprise?


© Robert Porteus

The stars naughtily play hide and seek,
A dark game of trickery and deceit,
But our love is forever sunshine and moonlight

Tides remorselessly ebb and flow,
Leaving pristine sands with no prints to follow,
But our love will never be washed away

Trees bud and then burst into leaf,
And inexorably fall in Autumnal grief,
But our love only knows Spring and Summer

After blissful cloudless days, sunset is alas inevitable,
Darkness readily follows gloom, so predictable!
But our love bathes only in the glory of sunrise

© Robert Porteus

Munching my Big Mac, I mused, whilst adjusting my thong,
Was Flora MacDonald a daughter, perhaps Ronald a brother?
Busily rowing and singing the Skye Boat Song,
Is this the origin of the Drive-Thru? as ketchup I smother,
Poor Bonnie Prince Charlie, only a tiny army he brought along,
His seed he did naughtily scatter, sod the crown! too much bother!

So, tout-de-suite, legged it back to France,
Then expresso to Italy, as pasta-masta, bathed in a vat of sauce,
And led poor wife Princess Louise a merry dance,
Badly afflicted with wandering hands, showing no remorse,
His behaviour was shocking, tut-tutting the Pope looked askance,
Formed a sub-committee, tasked with strict morals to enforce

Laying on his deathbed, he tearfully imagined a whispered refrain,

Will ye no’ come back again?
Will ye no’ come back again?
Better lo’ed ye canna be,
Will ye no’ come back again?

(This chorus Carolina Baroness Nairne)

© Robert Porteus

My sad world I can no longer protect,
No more delivered eggs! so I have to Cluck and Collect!

© Robert Porteus

I am now an Honorary Fellow of a college somewhere,
But nobody tells me what I am to do! ******!
Best that I swan about, quietly munching on a pear,
Hang on! already do that, not giving a ****!

Too many pears, however, give me colic,
I double up in pain, that lasts all morning,
And bang goes my next naked frolic!
Perhaps swanning about needs a health warning?

No! what I lack is money, and possibly a purpose in life,
For sale! a barely used yak herder’s tent,
Mmm lovely! but not really me, better find a rich wife!
Then give up pears! and swan about, so smug and content.

© Robert Porteus

As mighty Autumn winds blow, my love is stubbornly valiant,
And trees crash with utmost ease, my love is proudly fearless,
As the cruel Winter snow falls, my love is bravely defiant,
And faunae small and large hide, my love is dauntless.

As Spring floods wreak havoc, my love is storm-proof,
And as desolation follows desolation, my love is so heroic,
As Summer relentlessly burns, my love remains coolly aloof,
And as the licking flames run and run, my love is far too quick.

The seasons readily come and go,
This is heaven’s natural order,
Rain, storm, heat, frost, wind, snow,
For us to watch, marvel and ponder.

Many things prosper and then wither,
But my love – (be it icily cold, in an endless fiery haze,
or Biblical flood, in foul fogs that greedily smother) -
will endure until the end of all days.

© Robert Porteus

This restless unquiet love, rages like a torrent from the mountain above,
With an almighty roar and bellow, in torment I helplessly wallow,
Scarred by an iron-****** glove, spirit broken like a wingless turtle dove,
Am I brave enough to let my blood flow? by a blade I too readily know

Will I ever be at peace? am I another victim of love’s caprice?
Canute-like, I battle a tide of despair, bruised perhaps beyond repair,
I await trial, a sacrificial centrepiece, in a court where I have no voice,
A bat-squeak whispers salvation I swear, there is still hope I declare!

Courage shall be my redemption! cowardice banished without hesitation!
Faith swells my strength mightily, victory assured I prophesy,
Prayer heralds a blinding vision, a heavenly banner that is no illusion,
“Love did not abandon you we clearly see, you cast it aside without mercy”

I wearily prostrate before the Almighty -

Yes, one brutal rejection,
Which became a prelude,
To a near lifetime of dejection,
A sad waste, but less painful this way, I tearfully conclude

© Robert Porteus

Red is the mist that too often descends,
Beige alas the colour of my teeth,
Tan, sadly I only ever burn,
Orange my fake perma-tan

Black my mood on a Monday morning,
White are the lies when I ring in sick!
Blue are the films I secretly watch,
Cerise, not a clue but sounds lovely!

Purple my boozers nose,
Scarlet somebody, from Gone with the Wind I think,
Violet missing an ‘n’,
Cream strictly rationed because of my diabetes!

Green my perpetual envy,
Tangerine, something else to hate at Christmas,
Burgundy, sorry ******* at geography,
Lilac, far too trendy for me!

Azure are the skies I miss from childhood,
Sapphire so very precious!
Cerulean, now I am being a smart-***!
Yellow the starting gun for me to run away

Indigo, when my snooker potting is on fire!
Pink, the ball I always miss,
Navy, something the Swiss don’t have,
Chocolate, something the Swiss do have

Brown the awful jumpers Mum used to knit,
Russet, used to be a tiny English County?
Emerald, a lovely girl I once dated,
Aquamarine such a delicate sea-sick tint

Puce, or do I mean puke, something I do after a skinful
Maroon rhymes with macaroon!
Crimson, I guilty blush when I pass wind!
Grey (never gray!), my hated school uniform

Ruby, any glass of port in a storm!
Auburn, I really love her films!
Lime, lovely with gin & tonic, especially in Vienna Harry! **, **!
Turquoise bruises, no stranger to these after a few too many

© Robert Porteus

From a far distant star, shines a piercing light,
And blankets me in a soft warm glow, that speaks only of love
I stretch out, striving to touch what surely is my birth right
Will this always be denied, until I am in heaven above?

Dear Lord, have you forsaken me?
Please gift me my own bright light,
I would willingly beam out for eternity,
Until I find that elusive love, and darkness makes way for daylight

I pray this is not false hope, I would embrace mere possibility,
So that I could joyously proclaim, like a springtime dove -
That my light shines back so mightily!
And blankets us in a soft warm glow, that speaks only of our love

© Robert Porteus

I remember, sometimes tearfully, my lost loves in fleeting, small pleasures –
In the warm, half smile of a stranger,
Or the musky fragrance of a fairy-tale dell,
In misty-eyed remembrance of a childhood manger,
Or the radiance of a sunset that gently whispers farewell

I remember, sometimes tearfully, my lost loves in fleeting, small pleasures –
In a stroll along the shore of Serendipity-by-the-Sea,
Or a glance at once shared rows of prose and poetry,
In pictures and photos that stir fond memory,
Or clothes I dare not discard, still arranged in perfect symmetry

I remember, sometimes tearfully, my lost loves in fleeting, small pleasures –
In postcards and letters, so beautifully written,
Or scent that still sweetly fills a room,
In cherished rings once exchanged, my I was so young and smitten!
Or spices and herbs, joyously used in meals always eager to consume

I remember, sometimes tearfully, my lost loves in fleeting, small pleasures –
In myriad CD’s, too rarely played, even some stray cassettes!
Or phone calls, often painfully hurried, with friends and family,
In the faintest lingering aroma from shamefaced cigarettes,
Or quirky cafes and bars, often chaotic but oh so lovely!

I remember, sometimes tearfully, my lost loves in fleeting, small pleasures,
But Dear Lord, I am at peace, these memories are sacred, holy treasures

© Robert Porteus

Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea,
Pristine sands aglow under a deep blue sky,
Crabbing and kite flying, every day a perpetual cream tea,
Never mind the bites and stings, the sunburn and occasional tears, the hours flew deliciously by,
Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea, in sweet memory of a lost childhood

Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea,
Endless games and innocent playful frolics,
Hide and seek in the dunes, eyes barely covered and a speedy count to twenty,
Mum and Dad fussing and fretting, always late for the midday picnics,
Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea, in sweet memory of a lost childhood

Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea,
Rainy days didn’t stop the fun, funfairs and arcades beckoned,
Never managed to hook those ****** cuddly toys, made Dad so angry!
Waste of time and money Mum always reckoned,
Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea, in sweet memory of a lost childhood

Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea,
Harmless nostalgia or dangerous reverie?
Perhaps things were never as I imagined them to be,
But I ache for those happier days, and ease this endlessly painful adult misery,
Oh how I yearn for Serendipity-by-the-Sea, in sweet memory of a lost childhood

© Robert Porteus

How pale our beloved Winter Queen, a king’s daughter so regal in velveteen,
Close to the hearts of all Bohemia, their own beautiful Ophelia,
Amidst strife and slaughter remains so serene, sentinel to a violence so obscene,
A perpetual fog of melancholia, a swirling panicked hysteria
How pale our beloved Winter Queen

White Mountain ends thy brief reign, The Hague becomes your exiled demesne,
Born into revered royal halls, sweet memory stirs of childhood *****,
In sadness you must remain, and witness a Thirty Years brutal campaign,
That pits father against son and truly appals, as blood flows like raging waterfalls,
How pale our beloved Winter Queen

How pale our beloved Winter Queen, a king’s sister whose fate she could not have foreseen,
Robbed of Frederick so dearly loved, 30 years of grieving and pious devotion to the Almighty above,
Returning to the land of your birth not seen since sixteen, your Restoration role only a fleeting scene,
Blessed is your dynastic treasure trove, as we still kiss your royal hand inside its bejewelled glove.
How pale our beloved Winter Queen

© Robert Porteus

I weep and weep again, a sad realisation, that love has passed me by,
Have I been unlucky, or was it my foolishness and conceit?
Ever seeking a perfection, an elusiveness I was too proud to deny,
My ardour and dreams have been pure deceit,
Has love passed me by?

Bitter tears flow and flow, and I angrily remonstrate, that love has passed me by,
Too late now, so many chances have faded, and lay dead,
My heart once full of hope, has long ****** happiness a painful goodbye,
I cloak myself in a fearful and perpetual dread,
Has love passed me by?

I spiral down and down, bitterly aware, that love has passed me by,
Do I have the courage to seek solace in the blade?
Or is there still a flickering light, that may yet herald a joyous lullaby,
I fall to my knees, and cry aloud, has someone heard my heartfelt serenade,
And perhaps love has not passed me by?

© Robert Porteus

In bounds the surgeon, scalpel aloft, in baton salute to Michael Johnston,
I await, wired in rainbow colours, a delicious lobotomy,
He booms booms his hellos, a cheerful echo of a cake crumbed Brian Johnston
My my this will be a job!, mmm yes there is an awful lot of me.

I admire his impeccable attire, head to toe, a neo Don Johnston,
Any last wishes he cheerfully asks, perhaps a nice cup of tea?
He circles and wafts scent and soap, courtesy of Johnston & Johnston,
As I slowly and slowly drift off into hyper monotony.

© Rob perspiring-poet

In hyperspace, how cool to be in a *******, as we hurtle towards the Sun,
But as the parsecs fly by, even such naughtiness becomes just a little boring,
We giggle and wish for an alien to join the fun,
Imagine our delight as a strange craft begins mooring.

Who, and what are you, we exclaim,
I am boy or girl, man or woman, ever willing and never beaten,
Will you join with us, we say in winking refrain,
Imagine our surprise, as we cheerfully entwine, and one by one are slowly eaten.

© Robert Porteus

Queuing in a rain-lashed drive-thru, I marvel at their efficiency,
Hour after hour, smile after smile, they wish me a happy day,
Too much ice again my cola!, as my bladder screams for a ***,
A drive-thru ****** would be a swell idea, I hear someone say,
But, what if I need a poo?, cheekily thinks me,
Perhaps then they will me a ***** day!

© Robert Porteus

My first poetry baby steps!

Bingo!

Stretched out on his scaffold, **** this ****** ceiling, exclaimed Michelangelo,
Would be far better done in woodchip and vinyl matt,
So bored was he that he invented a game called Bingo!,
Full house! Full house! he cried out aloud, and then fell and landed
with an almighty splat.

© Robert Porteus