Ook

I bought a book about a cook
who couldn’t look because he shook.
One day he could look
because he had the book
about a crook
which made you look.

My maid is in the shade,
she layed down to braid
A few hours later she went to the arcade
She paid me $50  to go see Cade.

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It has been seven years since Paddy posted his last poem. I am taking the previlege to bring it back up top. Please read his poems.

Paddy Martin Jan 2011
An Australian Summer Sonnet.
I pray thee sun thou should set,
or take thy leave better yet,
wouldst at last my thirst be gone,
But alas thee linger, and linger on.

There be no flower not yet dead,
no water flows in yonder river bed.
'Tis a heat where nought doth grow,
nor doth thee ever mercy show.

Dry of skin and parch of throat,
a man doth need no overcoat.
Thy rays doth burn mine eyes,
they do not hear mine mercy cries.

If there be a place where chill be found,
'Tis there it be that I be bound,
A place where there be no burning sun,
show it to me, so to it I shall run.

(c) 26th January 2010
with apoligies to all you Shakespeare freaks
I was thinking how Will would have handled our Oz summer heat.

Paddy - Year Seven
Seven years since you sat upon the rock
Sitting there taking stock
of things of this world
and things of the next.

A Poets heart since you were young
the written word delivered by tongue
lives on forever in the heart
of those who've read to never part.

You ran the race with no disgrace
Inspired others to take their place
In the words of true poets to be
Filling the hearts of all they see.

Thanks again Paddy Martin

02-08-2018
Read Paddy Martin at:
http://hellopoetry.com/paddy-martin/

http://hellopoetry.com/the-paddy-martin-fellowship

His spirit resides in us, with us,
even when we no longer know who we are.
He carries us through the darkness,
is with us until the new morning
transforms us into who we really are.
A child of God.

i stand, rotting
a small wooden structure in a large city
barren and empty
one window, a single pane of glass

surrounded by skyscrapers
tall and terrifying
yet they too,
they too are rotting
windows smashed,
cavernous corridors tainted by crude slogans,
abused.

my small frame is fragile,
a foundation that is questionable,
my walls are depending on these skyscrapers
willing them to stay tall and terrifying
yet they are crumbling at the edges,
the debris beginning to become almost too heavy on my roof.