(untitled)#32

.

fractions of effort

two thousand years of writing

would not waste my time

.

Continue reading

Advertisements

Poem Seeds

Sometimes a poem comes – the seeds are sown

but it’s gone again before I write it down.

The good ones I know will come again

so I’ll keep to hand my trusty pen

and many left empty a small note book

just in case a poem should chance to luck:

sometimes a poem and sometimes not:

sometimes my pen just runs and blots

but where blackest lie, dark pools of ink

does a poem hide? Just let me think…

Insomnia

There’s no time to stop and lie in bed

ten thousand things are busy going round my head:

each thing less important than the last

but round they go all whirling fast –

and when I stop and hold onto one

the others run ’round again just for fun.

I’ve been lying here since four o’clock

but how this madness just won’t stop

and now just as my thoughts stay steady

arrives the dawn again – here already!

Now needs must: get up, get on

ten thousand things I must get done…

A Gift (on our going separate ways)

Oh! There you are look – little flea!

It seems we found each other – rather you found me!

But before you go and ‘fill your boots’

I’m going to have to ‘throw you oot’!

Then before you – find: the big wide world

And though your heart will be forever churled

Know that I will cherish your fond memory –

And the little red keepsake just below my knee!

Continue reading