I stand in a room full of people,
And want to shout your name,
But can't.
My throat frozen in a,
Two thousand year scream.

Sightless eyes, surveying,
Trying to catch that knowing
Wink, uncertain smile,
With no way of telling,
Whether it’s been seen.

Memories of times gone by,
Caught between whispers,
And a silent scream,
From a silent tongue,

Frozen in alabaster.

© Nick Strong 2014

People stare into the portraits hanging there,
Portraits just glare back, watching, gathering.
They see, hear all, and utter nothing;
Tears shed, plans made, broken
Secrets kept bound on canvas.
Absorbing laughter, thoughts,
Imprinted within brush strokes.
Oils containing dreams, brought here.
Artist’s folly, a person’s musing,

Thoughts trapped in a flick of stroke.

© Nick Strong 2014

The Card Sharp and the Sharp Shooter.

The Card Sharp
When all the cards fall,
You’re left with an ace up your sleeve,
Nowhere to go, with everything to explain
And now you look towards the future
Down the barrel of some gun
My life one sharp trick
Ends here with a sharp shooter
Thought I’d die in bed someday
Well now I’m going with my boots on,
All for the love of a card or two.

The Sharp Shooter
A quiet shot or two, passing time,
Cards on the table, chips strewn there.
A moment of silence, disbelief,
As a card falls from a sleeve,
Snap of the wrist, pistol drawn,
Chair kicked back, shot fired
A hand drops, cards slip to the floor,
Lifeless eyes, body slumped,
A dead night, for a Card Sharp.

©  Nick Strong 2014

The president ordered! All the men said Yes!
Come defend our walls, ‘gainst the onslaught,
To keep the peace, safeguard our freedom,
Maintain the rights of Men of the West.
The President said Yes! All the men ordered in line!
Defend our walls, ‘gainst undeniable credible threats,
Who questions our integrity, and the honour of the free?
Protect our walls, build them brick by brick higher.
The President ordered! All the men strengthened those walls.
Keep them from coming, taking from our own.
Fight with fierce force, engage without fear,
Stop them at the borders, make them feel unwelcome.
The President ordered! All the men saluted!
Then marched off, for an undeniable confrontation.
A war that would change men’s hearts, crumble their souls.

©  Nick Strong 2014

For, a four legged companion,
A solitary
Gravel smoked voice clips instructions,
Harsh sharp whistles echo cross the valley floor,
Emitted by crag worn features.
Piercing eyes, sun bleached.
Skin hewn by dry stone walls.
Hands created by granite.
Coarse tousled hair guards against howling winds.
The hardworking man at peace with his surrounds.

©  Nick Strong 2014