Poetry

A medley of PhotoPoetry and some of my favourite poems both new and used (on Twitter and MoonBiscuit.co.uk)

 

 

She was his last rose
Of autumn
She carries him
On spider-spun wings
Through his long winter
And all that it brings
The time will come too
That she’ll carry him through
His eternal spring

Magic happens when:
Disparate voices harmonise;
In velvet dark star-studded skies;
At dawn when the sleepy day awakes;
When that place in your soul no longer aches

She left without warning
On Tuesday morning
Leaving a brief note
On which she wrote
She’d miss his strong arms
The ones that carried her in
To their lovely home years ago
But never miss his busy fists
That meant that others
Had to carry her out

In the garden with a cuppa
At that gorgeous
Pre-dawn dusk time of day
Accidentally eavesdropping
O
n so much they have to tweet
There’s gossip and confessions
Rumours fly of deception, aggression
Catch-ups, laughter and song
While their chicks are playing
Can’t help imagining
What birds actually say

Jagged edges
Some smoothed over time
Others I choose to keep
Honed over years
Not to harm but as armour
When I retract them
All too often I bleed

Broken-promises trees
Impossible to climb
Rivers of regret
That travel back in time
Tendrils of pain loss and envy
Keeping us land-locked
Red roses of guilt-thorns
Which tear at your clothes
Some of them sharp enough
To pierce your soul

Who do you hide behind your eyelids
When you go to sleep
Who do you carry around
When you’re drowning
In the deep dark spaces and places
That no-one goes to but you
Do you wonder if they’re there
To rescue you
Or to pull you further under

 

All photos by Steve Ward.  SW Photos.co.uk is his gorgeous website.

 

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