"windermere" poems
I'm so glad there's an ocean
Between you and me
Distance and dreams
Are all that can be
If you were next door
What there would be
Is the danger and drama
Of proximity
I tremble to think
Of the crevice and slope
On the slippery hills of
Love full of hope
Windermere, Jan 25 2016
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
Passed a neglected garden of late.
It seemed in quite a sorry state.
Some men came to make some notes.
But seemed to give it little thought.
Up on high the grasses grow.
Beneath the windows row by row.
The other plants just cry with pain.
I guess we'll never grow again.
They have taken up our space on the ground
Like an advancing army I'll be bound.
They are taking our water Oh my.
As they journey to the sky.
Perhaps it soon will be resolved.
And peace will reign.
Once again
Keith Wilson Windermere. UK. 2016.
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
When you are young.
The village seems only
one field away.
You can skip it in no time.
Middle aged it feels
two fields away.
And is getting a bit
of a bore.
When you are old
it seems like three fields
Almost Impossible to walk.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2017.
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
I love my little garden Lord
Which you have given me
I thank you for this heaven
Where I can feel so free
I pray each night to give me strength
To sow more wondrous seeds
And for you to bless the birds
Who fly right in to feed
I bless you for my sight and smell
To enjoy the flowers so
And all the bees and butterflies
Who gently come and go
So bless my little garden Lord
It gives me peace and joy
For I have prayed each night to you
Since I was just a boy
Keith Wilson Windermere. UK. 2017.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:00 AM UTC
The cherry blossom is
beautiful this year.
Thick pink clumps covering
all the trees.
Should stay nice for awhile
If the weather remains calm.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK 2016.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
Mother Nature broke her water
But the baby never came
Our inundated world
Will never be the same
We watched slowly
With a growing sense of impotence
As an elemental army
Took our innocence
Some left their homes and died
In another place
They never did return
To their own space
Politicians waded 'round
In their wellingtons
What nerve they had to even show
Their sorry skeletons
Pontificated platitudes
Filled the element of air
And those who had been flooded
Didn't really care
To hear the sly sermon
Those words were barely heard
Though so well-written
Practised and rehearsed
Mother Nature has retreated now
To her slumber state
One day soon she'll wake again
We do not know the date
Windermere 2016 February 14th
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
A stiff breeze
blowing the cherry blossoms away.
Petals floating into space
like tiny butterflies.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK 2017.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
He stays with us in winter storms
And when the garden's bleak
He hops around in sleet and hail
Appearing pale and weak.
But once the days begin to lengthen
And the worst of winter's gone
He perches high up in a tree
And begins his joyful song.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
I'm stuck inside
The psychosis
I know this
I have a doctoral degree
In Reality
I have been taught
The architecture
And structure
Of the grand psychosis
I know this
I have been goaded
I have been guided
I have been shown
Inside
The minds of men
Who whirl around
Their imagined worlds
Boys and girls
Unaware
Fighting phantoms
In thin air
I should dis appear
Yet
I find myself
Still
Inextricably
Involved
In ordinary appearances
I'm inside
The psychosis
I know this
HELP!
Sean Hunt
Windermere November 9 2015
https://vimeo.com/145132005 (recitation)
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
A beautiful laburnum tree
as just come into flower
outside my window.
Drooping clusters of
yellow flowers.
Hanging down like jewels
on a chain.
Truly beautiful.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 8:35 AM UTC
I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.
I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning places to go.
I want to travel far and wide.
See much more of the English countryside.
Beautiful beaches that surround us in Cornwall and Devon, remind us we live in our own corner of Heaven.
Mystical places with tales of legends to tell.
So much to do and see, I'll do my best to make it sell.
Tintagel such a mystic place, where legend has it King Arthur had his chair.
He had a roundtable it held many Knights, all ready to defend, always ready for a fight.
In York a Viking museum to tell how they came upon our shores, with longboats, a 60 man crew, paddled with their oars.
Bath has the best Roman baths to be found, laze and spoil yourself in the steam rooms built in Roman surrounds.
In Wales, there's Snowdonia for you to climb, or the less active can take a train ride.
A castle in Caernarfon where Princes are appointed by H M The Queen, the sword on the shoulder duly declares arise HRH Prince of Wales, the crowd are waiting for the new Prince to be seen.
In Scotland there's Edinburgh with a castle tall and round sits atop a very high mound.
The lowlands and the Highlands are a sight of well known beauty, driving around the lochs at night keep your eyes open for a monstrous sight, nessie fact or fiction,
Of course there are the lakes of England too, Windermere the largest draws the biggest crowd. Find a cottage out of sight, snuggle up with a loved one, cuddle tight.
Put on your water skis, hire a boat, sail your wind surfing board, fire up your jet ski any of these activities can be fun and available to be done, daily.
The Cotswolds, for take your breath away beauty, small villages, luscious village greens, cricket playing in the field, Large Houses, Lord of the Manors, old worldly pubs, thatched pubs and rivers waiting to be seen.
There are Dartmoor, Bodmin Moor and Exmoor too, Peak District, Lake District mountain ranges, many a zoo.
I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.
I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning places to go.
So much to do, so much to see.
On your doorstep, no need to stray.
Whatever you do, wherever you go, have a happy holiday.
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
I walked along the mountain stream
Where dancing sunbeams shone and gleamed
It was such a peaceful place
The gentle breeze carressed my face
I came across a country stile
Where I could sit and think awhile
Far away from this dangerous world
The natural beauty just unfurled.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK 2016.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
Went down to the lake today.
The vast expanse of water
shimmering under the baking sun.
Had some food and drink
sat on a bench.
The swans came up from the
water begging for food.
Truly amazing how they
cope on dry land.
. Slender legs supporting
a bulky body mass.
They certainly belong
in the water.
Crowds of people about
mainly Chinese tourists.
Really warm day.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
A flock of wild geese
have just flown by.
Very pleasing
to the eye.
I'm in the heart
of nature here.
Quite content
with little fear.
Mother nature works away
something new turns up each day.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC
I am a pen
Safe in a warm hand
I can write poetry short stories
Even novels
And I am always put away safely
Ready for the next time.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2017.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
A creeper once was planted,
On a cold North-facing wall,
The gardener wanted her to spread,
To cover the bricks and all.
In the weeks that followed,
She strove her best to grow,
But the sun was so unkindly
And the frost so cruel so.
Alas, one day a child at play
Broke off her slender stem.
'It's no use' she cried
'I'll never grow again.'
But she was so courageous,
A brave, hidden spirit she found
And started sending up new shoots,
Directly from the ground.
One day she got her just rewards,
For all her courage and strife,
The gardener came and transplanted her,
To start a brand-new life.
Now on a warm, South-facing wall,
Where the sun kissed her all day
And the gentle breeze caressed her,
She grew and grew away.
She grew so strong and beautiful
And when the tale is told.
Her crown of joy was autumn,
With her leaves tinged red and gold.
Keith Wilson . Windermere UK 2017.
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
A pheasant is strutting
around my garden today.
He's a very beautiful bird
and he knows it.
Strutting around as if
he's the king.
Calling out now and again
disregarding all the other birds.
I must be close to nature
with him in the garden.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
Passed the lake last evening.
It looked dark,dank and threatening.
In the fast fading light.
The moody mountains stood tall.
With thick mist swirling across.
In ghostly fashion.
A complete contrast to the summer view.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
And when his usefulness had gone.
They just cast him aside.
And on the final downhill.
He began to slide.
Rejected after all his work.
Visions now all gone.
He knew full well his time was near.
He knew he had not long.
As an old man disillusioned.
And weary from his fight.
He spent in sad remembrance.
His final lonely night.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
I Am A Rainbow
I come and I go.
Where from where to?
Few know
You think you see me up in the sky
Touching the ground, from on high
In days of old, tales were told
They say at my feet,
Lay pots of gold
If you search, you'll not find any thing
The gold is illusory, just like me
Fondness for foibles, fiction and fable
You've been hoodwinked, I'm unstable
I look down below and what do I see?
People coming and going just like me
They think they're different; they don't know?
We are the same, we're all rainbows
We wear our art, iridescent garb
Like sound in a seashell
We're all special
Hello and goodbye my colorful friend
We will meet again, in the end.
Sean Hunt
Windermere May 2015
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
I do not write poems
About the world we see
Because the world we see
Does not interest me
Landscapes inside my mind I find worthy of words
Internal curiosities appeal to me
I am bored by birds, and clouds and flowers
Lakes, and trees and bees
Sure there is sadness enough in the mind of a bird
To fill an ocean with the tears
From trillions of heart-wrenching words
But you may prefer that I write about birds
With innocent human minds
Cute as pie, flying by, in the sky
Not terrified ravenous hunters
Constant killers of anything smaller
All through the day,
Like a child’s sinister play
Or should I write of cuddly cats
Who ambush innocent birds hopping by
Silly birds who should have stayed in the sky
‘Tis nothing to do with a need for food
‘Tis wanton bird abuse for cats' amusement
Our Earth family is Dysfunctional
The truth of Mother Nature
Is not what we want poets to write about
Sean Hunt Windermere
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
I was mothered by
A *** slave
And a servant
She never had
A life of her own
She was
Crippled
By Irish
Catholic
Crap
He taught me much,
All that he knew
Of poetry
And misogyny
I am still
Extricating myself
From silly
Inherited habits
No wonder
I live alone!
All the women
Have known
In their bones
Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 22 2016
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
Inana Shlash
How I wish I knew you
I would have melted
And oozed into
Your shoes
lingering many hours
Before you finally
Took a shower
I would have been a blanket
Embracing your back
Nuzzling against the nape
Of your neck
Until you wandered away
To a cool breeze
On the deck
If the gods would have
Smiled on me
I could have been
A billion water droplets
Easing into the hundreds
Of thousands of pores
In your silken skin
Alas
Our missile
Blew you away
And I don't know what to say
Sean Hunt
Windermere, December 6 2015
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
It's about me
Not about you
Or what you do
Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 16 2015
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
The Deluge
Heavy thundery rain
Cascading down from the heavens.
The sheer volume of water
Causing a sinister mist across the rooftops.
A waterfall suddenly fell
In front of my window.
The gutters unable to cope.
For a few moments
It felt like the end of the world.
Keith Wilson. Windermere. UK. 2016.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC