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florida
22/M
Just someone cursed enough to be born in the world
Poems
CK Baker Mar 2017
Welcome to the Shire
CK Baker
Mar 2017
fischers rap
on a hot tin roof
bristol creek pools
over rock and seed
english wolfhound (and the barkbuster)
stroll pine lane
vibrant colors
of a cool spring
in cob yellow and
forest green
field mice squander
in cotton wind
goats and ferret
hold seven hour trim
raven and ****
meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!)
crickets and frogs
hidden
in swollen grey logs
creepers fill the
cut stone walls
coy wolf high
on a frayed white rope
eagles perched
at trudy’s bend
catamounts laze
on a snow base cedar
(pared arbutus bent
through a failed ground rock)
brush spider spins
a timely web
brown bears fumble
at the spirit jamboree
quizzical squirrels
crack their nuts
as pillow clouds float
over telegraph trail
12 point dances
on talus and scree
hen hawks float
in a big hard sun
clydesdale and coach
trot copper smith road
(glancing down
on finch and the warbler
whistling through
colander row)
lavender fills
the peat soil box
mountain cats
guard the heavenly gates
black eyed ridge
is wide and open
the country squire hails
this fruitful land
on a hot tin roof
bristol creek pools
over rock and seed
english wolfhound (and the barkbuster)
stroll pine lane
vibrant colors
of a cool spring
in cob yellow and
forest green
field mice squander
in cotton wind
goats and ferret
hold seven hour trim
raven and ****
meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!)
crickets and frogs
hidden
in swollen grey logs
creepers fill the
cut stone walls
coy wolf high
on a frayed white rope
eagles perched
at trudy’s bend
catamounts laze
on a snow base cedar
(pared arbutus bent
through a failed ground rock)
brush spider spins
a timely web
brown bears fumble
at the spirit jamboree
quizzical squirrels
crack their nuts
as pillow clouds float
over telegraph trail
12 point dances
on talus and scree
hen hawks float
in a big hard sun
clydesdale and coach
trot copper smith road
(glancing down
on finch and the warbler
whistling through
colander row)
lavender fills
the peat soil box
mountain cats
guard the heavenly gates
black eyed ridge
is wide and open
the country squire hails
this fruitful land
Philip Winchester
Oct 2018
Poem ~ Our garden where we would sit n laze .
Ref 023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our garden where we would sit and laze.
Under the canopy of beautiful tree palms
Rippling waters trickling by whilst we dream
Gardens of tropical plants tended n charmed
And dollars well spent on this tropical scene
Reflections mirrored up to the sky becalmed
Did this paradise figure in our wildest dreams?
Even as loving kindred spirits were we charged
No never though our lives of years we teamed
Without a doubt we teamed to live as one.
Hoping for a life force ,greater than it seemed
Expecting that with luck our life had just begun
Real life Angel ,she was, all I would ever dream
Established early on,we would have such fun.
With plans to live forever, I fear, I was so wrong
Even the best laid plans of mice and men .
Will never stand up to be predictable
Our garden where we would sit n laze
Under the canopy of beautiful palm trees
Lagoons where we watched our charges play
Digging in the sand and giving Nana joy.
Silent now as I sit with you reflecting
I sit in pain knowing that my Darlings gone
Triggering another tear to salt my eyes
No doubt folk kindly say “just love yourself “
Love myself ? Well OK , but my darling’s gone
And in Our garden where we would sit n laze
Z zzzz Barbara oh please let me dream of you
Eternally ,sweetheart in my heart to carry you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
Sunday 7th October 2018.
Ref 023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Our garden where we would sit and laze.
Under the canopy of beautiful tree palms
Rippling waters trickling by whilst we dream
Gardens of tropical plants tended n charmed
And dollars well spent on this tropical scene
Reflections mirrored up to the sky becalmed
Did this paradise figure in our wildest dreams?
Even as loving kindred spirits were we charged
No never though our lives of years we teamed
Without a doubt we teamed to live as one.
Hoping for a life force ,greater than it seemed
Expecting that with luck our life had just begun
Real life Angel ,she was, all I would ever dream
Established early on,we would have such fun.
With plans to live forever, I fear, I was so wrong
Even the best laid plans of mice and men .
Will never stand up to be predictable
Our garden where we would sit n laze
Under the canopy of beautiful palm trees
Lagoons where we watched our charges play
Digging in the sand and giving Nana joy.
Silent now as I sit with you reflecting
I sit in pain knowing that my Darlings gone
Triggering another tear to salt my eyes
No doubt folk kindly say “just love yourself “
Love myself ? Well OK , but my darling’s gone
And in Our garden where we would sit n laze
Z zzzz Barbara oh please let me dream of you
Eternally ,sweetheart in my heart to carry you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
Sunday 7th October 2018.
A memory of my Darling Wife who passed away in September
Mahnoor Kamran May 2017
The Journey to Success
Mahnoor Kamran
May 2017
I climbed slowly,
slowly on the mount of aspirations,
On succint savoury dreams,
As i see the success peaking from thousand miles above.
I grip the cold stone
tighter, harder,
My passion,
my hardwork,
As i swiftly float
from the ground.
Snowy
zephyrs
of laze and evil,
Reign against me,
trying to break my hold.
Yet the fire of my
determination,
Still burns
within.
My thick woolen
coat hugs me tight,
My faith, my values,
Protecting me from
the blizzards of
jealousy, vile,
As i wind
my way
upwards.
A glance
backwards,
And the horrid past knocks
on the veins of my sullen heart,
Yet this soul will give up
no more.
The weary body,
driven by heraculous force,
through the steep slopes of time,
Against enormous storms and stints,
With an armour of patience,
Finds itself on dome of
success.
Ah!
fleeting
moments
of unscathed bliss,
Enamour for success,
And it's sweet sweet honey.
That slowly melts in my heart,
On top of the mountain,
Where everything is
freezing.
From
the top,
the hardwork,
the giant path looks small,
As the heart prepares to climb,
Another mountain.
slowly on the mount of aspirations,
On succint savoury dreams,
As i see the success peaking from thousand miles above.
I grip the cold stone
tighter, harder,
My passion,
my hardwork,
As i swiftly float
from the ground.
Snowy
zephyrs
of laze and evil,
Reign against me,
trying to break my hold.
Yet the fire of my
determination,
Still burns
within.
My thick woolen
coat hugs me tight,
My faith, my values,
Protecting me from
the blizzards of
jealousy, vile,
As i wind
my way
upwards.
A glance
backwards,
And the horrid past knocks
on the veins of my sullen heart,
Yet this soul will give up
no more.
The weary body,
driven by heraculous force,
through the steep slopes of time,
Against enormous storms and stints,
With an armour of patience,
Finds itself on dome of
success.
Ah!
fleeting
moments
of unscathed bliss,
Enamour for success,
And it's sweet sweet honey.
That slowly melts in my heart,
On top of the mountain,
Where everything is
freezing.
From
the top,
the hardwork,
the giant path looks small,
As the heart prepares to climb,
Another mountain.
No goal is small. No dream is small. And neither the sacrifice and hard work involved to attain them. And dreams come in all shapes and flavours, just like the paragraphs of this poem!