A special poem I wrote, after I’d taken my Lady to the hospital for the last time, on the day of her 65th birthday, thirteen years ago.
Hello Carole, time goes by, and my heart has not moved …
Under The Snow
We emanate to a birthday. We deflate to a final day. Birthdays, they all come, they all go. Birthdays, in the sunshine, under the snow. Birthdays, slow to mature, quickly an eon. Birthdays, before we are born, after we are gone. Birthdays, hanging on by a breath. Birthdays, nailed to a cross ’til death. What does it all mean to be alive and cry? What does it all mean to live and to die?
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Oh, My Waning Moon”is in this week’s edition. … To read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/oh-my-waning-moon/
Over at Weekly Prompts, The Weekend Challenge is the word Absence. Please visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> HERE
Imaginary Bookcases and Bootlaces
In the absence Of any commonsense I’m here talking in mime About my memories and rhymes From behind my imaginary bookcase And wearing a quirky poet’s face
This is my ordained place Where I bravely embrace The unpredictable pace In this dysfunctional race
Then I cautiously retrace My creations’ underground faces From the days of waterlogged bootlaces
During early February, my stunning Day Lily begins to bloom, which nostalgically coincides with my father’s birthday week. A potted perennial that I rescued from my dear departed parent’s homestead. The lilies always grace my garden in February as nature’s tribute to Dad, and today’s revised poem was originally written in February 2017, when me and Dad’s day lily moved into my villa, “Shangri La” …
Day Lily and Love (Revised)
Upon my pillow, I sleep Good morning, I do peek From the cushion of my dreams To my garden’s awakening beams Blushing red hues, oh so bright You bloom during the night
And after cuddling the dew You open up your scenic view Flowering, standing proud, and steep Perfection at my feet A glorious Lily, like the wings of a dove And by sunlight, you air your love
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Wandering In My Universe” is in this week’s edition. … To Read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/wandering-in-my-universe/
** Please note: The featured image above was copied, with permission from Niki Flow’s; >> blog site. https://under1000skies.org/
Today’s Throwback poem is from July 2019, six months after my third stroke, and stroke fatigue was still occurring regularly. Today, I’m feeling quite fatigued, but it has more to do with my hectic schedule lately …
An Empty Shell
I’m a broken stick Hit by a tonne of bricks I’ve stroke fatigue Tiredness out of my league The psyche says go My body says no Yesterday everything was fine Today nothing is mine Only rest and sleep Not even a sneaky peep They say, what’s wrong I say, who’s playing my song They say, you look ok I say, I cannot stay Read us your poem No! I want to go home Don’t spoil the show I’m an empty shell, they do not know
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 