Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sean Hunt May 2016
Dead leaves
Are gone
Life seems
It will go on
Forever

Summer has come
Time for fun
For some
But all things
That have begun
Will be
Undone

Sean Hunt  
Windermere  May 17th  2016
I noticed, today, the absence of dead leaves in my garden, for the first time in many months
Sean Hunt May 2016
Be like the spring snow
Don't be afraid
To go
Sean Hunt May 2016
If you are a puzzle
Missing a piece
And wine
Makes the world
A fine place
Check to see
That the pool
Is not empty
Before you do
A swan dive
Sean Hunt May 2016
My poem was a 'hit'
My friend
You imputed it
Sean Hunt May 2016
Kate's lucky
She's married
And I’m old
I’m lucky
Kate's married
And I’m old
Sean Hunt May 2016
Things coming and going at the  same  time
is the most sublime Rhyme

Einstein and Siddhartha  knew this
many years ago
They told us something that we just don't
really want to know  

Things coming and going at the same time
Is the most sublime  Rhyme

Bits of seconds  passing by
Keep on looking them in the eye  
Be here now,  time will fly
As bits of seconds pass you by

Things coming and going at the same  time
Is the most sublime Rhyme

When the earth quakes
And shakes the ground
Beneath your feet
Slip into the crack and don't look  back
Let your heart skip a  beat

Things coming and going at the same time
Is the most sublime Rhyme

Sean Hunt  May 8 2016
from a song I wrote called 'The Crack'
Sean Hunt May 2016
I used to call myself an A-Romantic Poet, not wanting to include myself
In the group that I thought knelt at the altar of nature on two knees, writing only about the prettiness they see.

Am I a ‘Romantic’ poet, I ask myself out loud. The jury is out.

At first I thought they only wrote about flowers and hills and things outside the mind. Someone said I was wrong, that they can write about inner inspiration and movements of mind, as long as their internal spring of feeling is strong, intense and vibrant like tremors, geysers, erupting volcanoes, hailstorms, floods, and hurricane furies; or as still as a daffodil bending in the breeze.

I think perhaps I write like an already very strong and steady wind that sometimes surprises with an even stronger gust that defies expectations, and explanations, and demands attention, like an ignored diva.
  

Sean Hunt  May 13  2016
First attempt at a 'Prose Poem'.  On July 7th I will be attending a monthly meeting of local poets at Wordsworth Trust in The Lakes District in Grasmere and the topic for that meeting will be Prose Poetry.  I know nothing about Prose poetry but the first sample I saw from the poet who will be leading the discussion did interest me so I thought I would try one.
Next page