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

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

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

The brown bear that bites
Does so from hunger or fear
Rarely from malice

© Robert Porteus

A full Paschal moon
Promises Resurrection
Hope for all lost souls

© Robert Porteus

Darting silver-greys
Merriment deep in the dell
Elven hide and seek!

© Robert Porteus

Ivory traders
Many blood-soaked hands – such shame!
Evil soiled trinkets

© Robert Porteus

Clad in silver-greys
Aglow in purest starlight
Elven radiance

© Robert Porteus

Shimmering delight
The beauty of the night sky
Forever and free!

© Robert Porteus

The sword of courage
Not always beaten from steel
Forged in our heart

© Robert Porteus

Words - choices galore!
The right ones are like rare moths
Very elusive

© Robert Porteus

Rarely a winner, the sad lonely long-distance sinner,
A heart of broken rubble, repair not worth the trouble,
In conflict with life’s rabble, their ill-informed babble,
Lacking civilised patina, that saps my spiritual stamina.

I face a blank wall of ignorance, solace is a constant séance,
Lifeless I drift in hyperspace, a freefall from grace,
A bat-squeak whispers what a waste! wake up and chase!
Those youthful hopes and romance, you so readily denounce.

Soar away wordsmith! banish all doubts as myth,
Word by word and line by line, rise up and shine!
Love and valour will align, poetry will become your new divine,
Forge beauty as any talented goldsmith, oh sweet songsmith!

Some will mock and wonder, let courage be your rudder,
Through cruel shoals of torment, that masquerade as comment,
Rip away the tattered cloak of lament, hail poetry’s debutante!
Let soul and passion cast asunder, the years of sorrowed shudder.

Arise Sir Poet! your old world is there to conquer and outwit!

© Robert Porteus

Cryptic crossword clue
Find film in 'springtime blossom'
Gone with the Wind - groan!

© Robert Porteus

Our life is a stream
Sometimes roars, or so tranquil
Inevitably will dry up

© Robert Porteus

Lonely warring me
With rose-tinted testicles
Ever the oddball

© Robert Porteus

Trembling of finches
Melodious bough and bush
A Springtime hurrah

© Robert Porteus

Poor Count Dracula!
Doctor bans breakfast fry-ups
WHAT!! - no black pudding!!

© Robert Porteus

Raisin-hued sunsets
Delicious, addictive and fleeting
Cherish the moment!

© Robert Porteus

Seasonal greetings one and all!

Poor Count Dracula
No tricks, just sugary treats
No fangs and bad breath

© Robert Porteus

Oddball history
Two forgotten Marx Brothers
Zippo and Typo

© Robert Porteus

The Poet of the World
Has nothing to lose, but their chains
Poets of the World unite!

Thanks Groucho!

© Robert Porteus

The brown bear that bites
Does so from hunger or fear
Rarely from malice

© Robert Porteus

Poor Owl and *****-cat,
Their beautiful pea-green boat unable to sail,
Delay after delay for this and that,
Petty Health and Safety rules did prevail!

© Robert Porteus

Mona Lisa’s smile
Enigmatic and piercing
Blush – she fancies me!

©

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

Poets of the World!
Be creative, shed your chains
Unite and publish!

Apologies to brothers Karl and Groucho!

© Robert  Porteus

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

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

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 Dartford Warbler
A showy, busy songbird
Sir **** Jagger – cool!

© Robert Porteus

I need to lose weight
Take a trip to the bookies
Empty wallet helps

© Robert Porteus

Sip sip pure moonshine
Grandpa’s finest running low
Bottled nostalgia

© Robert Porteus

Farewell Charlie Watts
Perfect manners and attire
Drumbeat still echoes

Bonnie Prince Charlie
Too ****** cold and wet said he
So sharpish legged it!

© Robert Porteus

Moonbeam-kissed eyes
Caress the shimmering night sky
Heaven-sent for eternity

Clad in silver-grey
Aglow in purest starlight
The hour of the Elves!

© 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

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

Cauliflower-clouds
Billowing chalk-white cauldron
Deep-azure canvas

© Robert Porteus

A ****** of crows
Cruel, howling wolf-wind blows
Winter storm looms large

© Robert Porteus

What I lack is a porpoise in life, or do I mean dolphin?
My head is full of This n’ That, brain all a’clutta,
Joan the Mad married Philip the Handsome, imagine!
Michelangelo designed the Swiss Guard uniform, clever fella!

Yes, landlocked Bohemia once had a navy!
A very dubious Shakespearean titbit,
‘The little dog barks but the caravan passes by’
Chekov, I think, but Star Trek chappie or Russian poet?

Sadly, Virgil hero of the Classics, is now barely known,
All hail the other Virgil! the Colossus of Liverpool!
‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’
No not that version! Carousel you fool!

Ambergris used in perfumes, is present in a whale’s whatsit,
Also, in the **** glands of dogs, but let’s not go there!
Think before buying an expensive bottle, best kept a secret!
Must be the vet’s worst nightmare, I swear!

There was a noble Italian Poet named Count Mario Stanza,
Did you know Nicholas Breakspear is the only English born Pope?
Mario cheekily claimed descent from Catherine of Braganza!
Nicky took the name Adrian IV, very lucky to escape the rope!

Catherine was the wife of Charles 11 of England,
Now this is getting silly! time for a nap I think,
End of history lesson, sorry getting pompous for a split-second!
In need of a large brandy, which tout de suite I will greedily sink!

© Robert Porteus

Haiku rules, what joy!
Keep counting silly bubbles
Far too much bath foam!

© Robert Porteus

Sprinkle sprinkle little star, shower me with love’s fairy-dust,
I hitch a ride on a passing meteor, single to Paradise please!
I soon suspect something amiss, a cruel galactic tease?
Are you sure this is the right way? I ask in disgust.

‘Sorry mate this thing does not have steering’
‘Oh, and no brakes too! no time to discuss’
‘You would have been better on the number 9 bus’
Many thanks! let me off and I will start queuing.

‘Get off! you must be joking!’
I scream and shout in rising panic,
‘No unless you know a ****** good mechanic!’
‘In a few minutes SPLATT!! you will all be croaking!’

All? I thought there was only me?
‘Oh no! the usual throng, the idiots express!’
‘Always ends in an almighty unpleasant mess’
‘Love’s fairy-dust indeed! that silly fantasy!’

This is torture! stop this meteor! enough is enough,
‘Forgetting my manners, I’m Parachute Pat’
‘My thirteenth trip, unlucky for you, thick prat!’
Worse still love’s fairy-dust, was only dandruff!

SPLATT!!

© 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

Famed Scottish Play line
Lady Macbeth - ‘out ****** spot’
Poor wee Dalmatian!

© Robert Porteus

My film DNA
Gene Kelly and Gene Wilder
Must be in my genes!

© 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

Study in Scarlet
Beyond even Sherlock Holmes
Bloodied Ukraine soil

© Robert Porteus

Melancholia
Warning – dark tunnel ahead!
Headtorch essential

© Robert Porteus

Such sweet memory
Sinless teenage embraces
Long grass and blue skies
Bubbling cauliflower-clouds
Joyous serendipity

© 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

After a hard days thinking Isaac fell asleep under an apple tree,
Woken with a jolt, with a sharp kick to the groin,
Oi! this is private land, and don’t threaten me with gravity!
Gravity? sounds interesting, sadly the weary road I must re-join.

Listen mate you kept on muttering it, gravity! gravity!
Not a clue, sorry no offence intended, my mind wobbles,
Best clear off sharpish! otherwise t’Squire will have it in for thee,
Off he went with a smirk and a wink, and lots of stolen apples!

Stopped to admire the Squire’s smart, nearly finished stable,
Enjoying a muncheon-break, he was felled by a flying brick,
Carried comatose into Smug Hall, was laid out on a billiard table,
Right on cue sat bolt upright, send for the cook and be quick!

After furtive mutterings, eureka! the apple pie was invented!
Later in a violent storm took shelter, under a handy apple tree,
Crushed by a falling bough, sadly death could not be prevented,
Body barely warm his last whispered words, gravity! gravity!

Poor Sir Isaac did sort of discover gravity, what a tragedy!
But claimed instead by Squire Smug of Smug Hall,
Not always wise to totally trust taught history!
It was on my land! Smug smugly proclaimed to one and all.

© Robert Porteus