Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
Stick men on canvas
in the foreground is Jesus
and Lowry is shaking his head.

Winter hit the mountainside with a clenched fist,
snow covered trees bowed and prayed.

The gallery wall held it all
saw it all
bared it all to
its breast.

we had danced to the magic of movement
on the oilskin of paint in the pool.

The love affair imbroglio of my youth.

No truth to be told except the truth of being old and sometimes the truth is a lie,
if I cry as I fall it is because I saw the wonder of it all
if I die it is as
a happy man.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
315
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems