For many long years I have wandered
For many long years I have roamed
Now a voice in my head is calling
Calling me back to my south country home

I have wandered your tropical forests
Experienced the hot desert sun
Climbed your mountains snow capped peaks
In your lakes and blue seas I have swum

Now a voice in my head is calling me back
Back to where I was born
Once more to walk in the pine woods
Beneath the warm summer sun

Many years ago I did leave her
As a youth so fearless and bold
Now I hear my south country calling me back
To the place where I can grow gracefully old

I'll never forget the friends that I made
As I wandered your far distant shores
And if ever you visit my south country
You'll find a welcome sign over my door.

Travelling in the last hours of darkness down this long dusty road
Looking up I see the moon so full on her journey through the night

I want to leave my earth bound life and on her take a ride
For she is travelling westward and would take me to your side

I continue on my lonely way the sound of road noise in my ears
But if I could ride upon that golden orb it would wipe away the years

To ride the road of the milky way to your side where I belong
No dvd or radio just the sound of angels songs

Is it just a dream I'm dreaming or can it become reality
To be with you my own true love, just us, just you, just me

Wisdom is in the words of an old man
Passed down to the youths
Who in the their turn will grow old and wise

I woke up this morning feeling quite cold,
it's time to accept that I'm getting old

The hair on my head has turned white and grey,
I look in the mirror.....there's less there each day

No more the spring in my step I had as a youth
muscles now stiff, no longer loose

I look at the stairs, now a mountain to climb,
at least I'm retired, can now take my time

A walk with my dog in the air clean and fresh,
but 200 yards later and I'm gasping for breath

Age comes to us all with the passing of time
but I can look back and enjoy the life that was mine

She sits at her desk,
takes up her pen and the ink begins to flow.
Each word carefully chosen,  each word so
carefully placed.
we watch in stunned silence as the poetry takes shape.
How many of us could pen such a literary work of art?
How many would sit and ponder and
not know where to start....

Sir, nature never had a chance
Against mans avid greed
All she did was natural
In spreading annual seeds
Yet man came along and ***** her
Destroyed what she produced
And it never made the headlines
Was not even local news
The blossoms that she made
That fed the bees and birds
Those blossoms are no more
Because part or natures dead
I speak here now on her behalf
To try to stop the rot
Man has had his bounty
But now it has to stop
Sir think about what nature gives
About the bounty she provides
You must decide your honour
If nature lives or if she dies
Do you really want to see
Concrete blocks instead of trees
Our lovely ground rent by open cast
No more birds to sing for us
Sir the choice is up to you
Tower blocks or a pristine view
Decide sir how it going to be
Oil wells or fresh green trees

We call them the enemy, those we have to fight
But they to are just young boys
They also bleed for their beliefs, for what they think is right
And as their lifes blood leaks away their loved ones also cry
Are they so very different from our young boys so brave
No, they bleed, laugh, love and die
And wives and lovers and parents cry
Just as would you and I if a loved one died
No matter what the colour of skin
No matter the god they believed in
They to are just boys

After the guns are silent
After the wounds have healed
The opening words from a song.......
But the wounds never heal
After 40 long years the pain is still there
Memories burned into your brain
In the hours of darkness, night mares
It could have been me not him
Why do we do it? Answer the call
When ever our countries have need
Its not politicians who answer the call
Its not politicians who blled
Its the boys and the girls of our countries so fair
Who give there their lives
In the fight for liberty
Eight thousand miles away from home
To keep another nation free

I wrote this for the boys and girls of the free world who fought/fight and die to keep us from harm.

Blue for the vast oceans crossed to fight to keep democracy free.  For your right to say your piece, to keep you safe from harm.

Green for the lands we'd never seen, places we didn't want to be but duty called and we did go to fight for you

Red for the blood, the blood we shed when the bomb or bullet found its mark. Yes, the blood we shed for you

I thought he was my friend
Anyway I shot him three times through the chest
And watched him die screaming in a pool of blood
And now its my turn to die
As they strapped me on the gurney and slid the needle in
I realized it had all been a misunderstanding

Simply Simple Poetry because that was my first ever collective
And that is what I live by
Simple to read, easy to enjoy

Hellopoetry

Though you be many miles away
We'll never be apart
I just reach out my hands
To feel the beating of your heart

I'm heading for the darkness
I'm descending into hell
Not a place I really want to be right now

Just a few short days ago they opened up my groins
Just because they wanted to shove some extra plumbing
deep inside
Only took them about nine hours

Anyway while deep inside covered in blood and gore
Somebody made a major mistake and now
I'm suffering like never before

One little mistake is all it took
A tiny slip with a scalpel blade
Been told that I will probably need a stick
For for the remainder of my days
Oh well its lucky I carve my own

Well no more wild camping
Under a tarpaulin in the woods
No more the bird song in the early ****
Because the birds don't sing in hell

Just as spring is life reborn after winters chill, I also want to be reborn and be a child again

I want to leave this adult life, return to distant memories, leave this hectic modern world and be a child again

Imagine as an eight year old, no worries to sear your mind, every day a new adventure, I want to be a child again

Who's here now to comfort me when worries tear apart my heart? When I was young it was my mum and dad. Oh how I long to be a child again

Take me back to my childhood days, take me back to my early years. Take me back to where I long to be, so I can be a child again.

No classical phrase or fancy words you'll get none of that from me
No deep concentration or long drawn out thoughts I just write as the
words come to me
Out in the woods, even sat on the loo!!! Always a pen and a notebook  to hand
With a memory like mine its the only way that I can get the words down
Shakespeare and Burns they could churn out the words and every word would make perfect sense
In my case its a farce and good for a laugh because half the words I cant spell
But I dont realy care if I cant compare with most of the writers on here
I just write for fun about moon stars and sun, of snowstorms and cold winter rain

I run from the reality of life, from voices within my soul

I run from what I cannot reach, from what I cannot hold

I run from pictures in my mind, from what I cannot see

I run from the life I cannot have, I run so I can hide

I run because I don't understand what life expects of me

I run because it's the only way to set my spirit free

What a silly statement, question
I have a glass of scotch, just enough light to see.
A little black cat on the arm of my chair,
a little black dog with her head on my lap.
The TV is on in the corner but I dont really know what is on
I'm quite content just to sit here
alone with the thoughts in my mind

I don't care what you write
You might be the worlds greatest litary artist
You might be the worst
But it doesn't matter to me
All thats matters is that you write
Words are precious symbols of us
But none are more precious than your words

Why do you write you masters of the ink?
Is it for we lesser beings to study the phrases that you pen?
Beautiful words of natures splendour
Or the dark words of a tormented soul
Or like me they can be words telling of many things
A birdsong in the dead of night
Or a tale of Elven folk.
No matter of what you write
The ink flows from an imaginative mind
Words handed down through the ages
To still be read when we are gone

Fear not the man in black, his vicious bite nor evil sting
For when your time on earth is done you'll sit beside the King
Fear not your time of passing from this sad forbidding land
For when your time on earth is done you'll sit at Gods right hand

Take a walk in the wild woods
if you have the courage
Trees, dark, foreboding
Wooden hands reaching out
clasping, strangling.
But its all in your mind.
Take a walk in the wild woods,
relax in the peace and calm.
Free your mind, free your soul
Look, listen, be at peace, be free.
Don't worry about household bills,
dont worry about passing time
Time has no place in the wild woods
Just relax, dream and empty your mind

I can't write the words in the way that some of you can do
I can only write the words that in my mind come into view
I can't write of devotion and never ending love
The inspiration for my words comes from somewhere up above
Yes words about the sea and gently rolling hills
These are words I know and sometimes get to use
Words can be things of beauty but sometimes cruel and harsh
Some words tell of sadness whiles some words can make you laugh
The words of fellow poets here cover every point of view
My words are plain and simple but I share my words with you

I sit here watching the westering sun
Relaxed now that my work is done
The slight ache in my shoulders
From bearing the weight
Of living the life that I chose

But this now is the time to sit
This now is the time to think
The time to sit and reminisce
Of times long past, opportunities missed

But would I change the times I've had?
The fun, the laughter
The good, the sad
Probably not for its history made
And tomorrow the start of a brand new page

I could have spent my life behind a desk
High blood pressure, ulcers and daily stress
Instead I chose another way
Of winter storms, springs fragrant days
Days spent beneath the summer sun
Free to wander, free to roam
To breath the heady pine scented air
And feel the soft breeze on skin and hair

And now I sit and reminisce
About those times long past

Wandering the fields and forests
Listening to nature
Would I ever want to be anywhere else
No
In rain, thunderstorms, snow
There's beauty in all those things
Yes, there's beauty in the stained glass window of a church
The money spent on that window
Would have been better spent on saving a life
After all what would your God have chosen?
A fancy window or a childs life?
I'm not asking you to cast aside your beliefs
All I ask is that you respect mine

We all lose someone we love so dear
in circumstances we cant control
We work in a rough tough industry
Where emotions cannot show
And yet in the darkness of the night
emotions fill your mind
No shame in those the tears you shed
in the darkness in the night
But there are others who hold the love
feel the anguish in your heart
We will not desert you
for of you we are a part
Stranger you from a foreign land
but my brother still you are
And we love you oh our brother
you are always in our hearts

I sit pen in hand but the words have left my mind
No longer can I pen the words about things that I have seen
I cannot find a reason for the blankness in my soul
The words have gone, no longer flow, my mind an empty hole
Where has gone the inspiration? The imaginative sharp mind
Where has gone the urge to sit and write?
The words that can open eyes
No, no, no. The words have gone my pen has stilled the ink no longer flows
The last chapter has been written......The book has now been closed...

Love is not love when it leads to shattered dreams.
Love is not love when doubts are in between.
Love is not love when doubts assault your mind.
Love is not love when your thoughts and doubts entwine
Then what is love???

These days I still wander the fields and forests
But only from the comfort of my arm chair
On a warm early spring day like today
I can still smell the heady scent of the pine trees
And watch the world class acrobatics of squirrels at play
The fresh green shoots of bluebells brush my boots
As I wander deeper into the forest following unseen paths
I sit under the spreading boughs of a stately oak
For a cigarette and a mug of sweet tea from my flask
My Mollly dog has long gone but Maisie now rest her head on my boot
I'm comfortable here in the woods, happy in my own company with pad and pencil in hand
All of this from the comfort of my arm chair because I can no longer wander in the woods

Love is not love when it leads to shattered dreams.
Love is not love when doubts are in between.
Love is not love when doubts assault your mind.
Love is not love when your thoughts and doubts entwine
Then what is love???

I sit and write because my hands still work and my mind still sharp
My brain and legs no longer communicate, my cane my new best friend
You see at age 22 you think you're bullet proof and don't think about tomorrows
You climb mountains with a hundred pounds on your back and your legs
do run for miles
Do I feel sorry for myself? No because I always remember the good times
I had and don't think about tomorrows
I sit here now a broken man, no more walking my dogs for me
My pain meds always close at hand taken with a cup of tea
I've lived a long life, longer than some and can still smile through the pain
There's many a lot worse of than me
So I say to all you young people who might read this don't think about tomorrow
No, think about 20 years or maybe 30, think of your body as a car engine
Abuse it now then next week maybe next year or even 30 years,
Like a badly serviced car engine something is going to break
I leave you with these few words, Live for today but live sensibly,
Abuse your body and for some tomorrow will never come

You don't need to drive for miles
To experience the wild side of life
Find any small patch of woods
And for a while forget about daily strife
Don't go in the daytime when others might be there
But wait until the evening time and experience
And breath deep of night time air
So walk a little way in the ever growing dark
Now stop and listen to the noises of the night
What is that bird that never stops her song
What is the small creature that creeps and crawls along
That screaming noise that sets your heart on fire
Beneath the waning moon
That's a ***** calling for her mate
In the dark of midnights gloom
So folks you don't have to go to far from your fire side
Just a hundred metres from your home
You can walk on the wild side

Yes I am content,
I have a beautiful wife who's always there for me
When despair sinks over me like a dark cloud.
Two lovely dogs, my little Mollie dog in my profile
Photo and a mad Labrador. Well we know the mother was
a Labrador but I think the father was an idiot
I can still walk with the aid of a stick and still
for the time being have the use of my hands.
The other day I saw a photo of a Ukrainian soldier.
He had lost both legs above the knees. He looked to
be only in his early 20's but he will never walk again.
It makes me think back to my early days as a soldier,
the times I thought I might never see another beautiful
sunset or hear the dawn chorus.
Well I sat down a thought, I still have a life but what has
that young man got to look forward to
So yes I'm content with the life that I have.