Yesterday My world was a tomb Today I fled my room Away From the gloom
Out there The sky was grey
Do you know? Not all clouds have dull shadows Rainbows know how to play the banjo Sunflowers can grow in the snow And all birds enjoy putting on an airshow In the middle of Nature’s achromatic afterglow
there is a fine line between pleasure and pain there are bad moments between life and death there is black space between here and the sun there is night when there is no light and there is only dark on the other side of the moon
I am a hybrid of mixed origin An off-spring of my parents Dad was a red-head with freckles From Tasmania, a convict great-grandson Mum had dark hair and olive skin A German and Scottish background She was born in Penang Malaysia They were worlds apart The great war shaped their paths Time and peace brought them together I’m their hybrid, with freckles and dark hair
Deep into the Twilight Zone At that moment above the horizon When the sun is sliding down Underneath his eiderdown
Nature dons her noble crown And declares to everyone in town “There’s no need to be a sad clown or wear a worried frown. Take your time to have a look around, the world is not falling down”
Last week, Derrick posted an interesting article about “Recycling Rocks” which prompted the pebbles in my head to tumble around. Please Note: Derrick Knight took the photos, and he kindly allowed me to reproduce them on my poetry site. >> https://derrickjknight.com/2025/02/18/recycling-rocks
Rocks
Our buried rocks are not in the wrong Isn’t that where they belong?
Some rocks like to live below the ground Others lie exposed and love to be found
I have heard of people owning pet rocks Do they put them to bed, in pyjamas and socks?
Some humans have never had their minds unlocked They are an uninventive and uninteresting stock That wear ear-muffs made from yesterday’s iceblocks
Over at Weekly Prompts, since it’s the last weekend of the month, “One Day” is again the monthly Prompt! To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here.
One Day, I’ll Fly Into the Light
I wish to fly away into the light
I need to know is she all right
Lying there in her silent night
Holding her white lily waiting for my final flight
Today’s Throwback Friday poem is from October 2020. As is my way, I have made some poetic edits.
Time on the Moon with Tea and Lime (Revised)
between now and then I see the full moon again sip on tea and lime and dream of a bygone time
where are you, old friend hiding your face until the end and I hear a distant tick-tock buried under weathered rock
when it’s all said and done my words fall one by one inking blues, line after line and I do not care the time
and sand flows drop by drop from the timeless clock adorning her silent cocoon on the far side of the moon
The Kinks “Full Moon”, Lyrics
Haven’t you noticed a kind of madness in my eyes? It’s only me, dear, in my midnight disguise Pay no attention if I crawl across the room It’s just another full moon
Don’t be afraid of me when I’m walking in my sleep Don’t get alarmed, dear, when I start to crawl and creep Try not to listen when I mumble like a loon It’s just another full moon It’s just another full moon
You see before you a truly broken man ‘Cause when it gets to midnight, I don’t know who I am Full moon’s a-callin’, and it’s put a curse on me And it will never set me free
The full moon’s still up there Like a great white balloon The owls are a-callin’ And they’re singin’ my tune The night keeps a-crawlin’ I wish the day would come soon To get away from another full moon Here comes another full moon
If your hands start shakin’ When night starts to fall If you’re scared of the moonlight And the shadows on the wall If the face in the mirror Isn’t you at all It’s just another full moon It’s just another full moon
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Is This The Time” 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/is-this-the-time/
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 