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Rob Oct 2020
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
A bit of throwaway fun!  I started writing a poem called This Restless Unquiet Love but gone bogged down.
Rob Oct 2020
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
This is my 9th poem.  When I have written the next one I will have my hair cut.  I look an absolute pillock!  The next one is called This Restless Unquiet  Love.  It is somewhat raw and personal and I am struggling to get the words down.  Good therapy though!
Rob Sep 2020
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
The feeling of loss is sometimes difficult to express. May be remembered in odd or trivial ways.
Rob Sep 2020
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
Another stab at something more substantial and serious
Rob Sep 2020
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
A stab at something more serious and substantial. Always been fascinated by the story of Elizabeth Stuart, the Winter Queen.
Rob Aug 2020
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?
My first stab at something more serious.  Not by usual throwaway style. Think I may have been listening to Leonard Cohen more than is healthy!
Rob Jun 2020
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.
Another bit of nonsense.  In a silly mood today.  Cheered up today with news of a tax rebate!
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