Category Archives: Poetry

Although I usually tend to write rhyming verse, I am now starting to appreciate the different forms of poetry that there are with specific rules. These I have grouped together in what I have called “Proper Poetry”. I have also tried to explain the different formats that I have used, for the reader’s understanding.

Goodnight, Sweetheart

by

0

I want to be frank and open,
with you, oh my television.

You can keep your position
there in my bedroom,
if you don’t ever try
to interfere with my
social life. But me,
I want to be free.

Faithful I will stay.
I won’t replace you anyway
with a younger model,
just because you’re old
or because you may
have seen a better day.

But I’ve better things to do
than spend my time with you.
I’ll not play fast and loose.
Who is it that I choose
to sleep with when I’m tired
after working hard?

Why you! It’s you
I always want to
curl up with, of course.
I listen to your voice
as you soothe away
the cares of the day.

But I just close my eyes
I’m sure that’s no surprise.
I’ve heard it all before,
I don’t listen anymore.
You’re really such a bore
I’m lulled to sleep, I’m sure.

Writersdigest.com Wednesday prompt 267 - Write a TV inspired poem

Painting

by

0

 

I have a complaint.
I wish I could paint
but an artist I ain’t,
so I guess I’ll just write
to describe a sight
that possibly might
delight me,
excite me,
ignite me
or invite me
to express
my happiness,
or even to stress
my distress.

“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci

Autumn Leaf-fall

by

 

Leaf-fall:
vibrant, vivid,
flaming, falling, rustling, dying,
multi-coloured woven carpet:
Autumn.

(Cinquain poem)
5 Lines – not rhyming
1st line – a noun, 2 syllables
2nd line – 2 adjectives descriing the noun, 2 syllables each
3rd line – 3 “……ing”words describing noun, 2 syllables each
4th line – a 4 word phrase about the noun, 2 syllables each
5th line – another word for the noun, 2 syllables

Daffodils

by

0

Daffodils at Barnwell

I’ve just been walking in the hills
and there I found some daffodils
blooming below an old oak tree,
but not like those that you would see on window sills.

These were growing wispy and wild,
like I remember as a child.
Golden drifts blowing in the breeze,
nodding gently under the trees, where they were piled.

Mother Nature I have to thank
for the perfume that in I drank,
which fills me with such heartfelt cheer,
seeing it bloom year after year, that golden bank.

***********

A Florette Poem:- Rhyme scheme a,a,b,ba. Meter 8,8,8,12
Fouth line requirement of internal rhyme b on syllable 8, then rhyme a on syllable 12

 

To Jezzie

by

0

25th January 2001 – 8th March 2013Jezebel relaxing at homeMy beautiful girl, you’ve gone to sleep today
and never more will we ever get to play.
For twelve years you have been my constant friend
and stayed by my side right to the very end.

You were a madam right from the start
but your winning ways just melted my heart.
You were always the belle of any doggie ball,
and you were big and brave with no fear at all.

The runt of the litter, you always knew how to survive
and bossed your litter sister all the time you were alive,
but we both miss you more than you will ever know
and are so sorry that you now have had to go.

So sleep well, my beautiful girl, your heart has been stilled,
but you’ve left a hole in my heart that will never be filled.
I will always think of you with a heart full of pride
and will dream of you still running by my side.

Jezebel & RichardJez back in the car after her autumn dog walk 2012Litchborough Gardens 260605 004Jez on her walk amongst the fallen leaves

Jezebel collage

Light a candle
Light a candle

Snow!

by

0

Snow 2013-01-18This Friday we have had some snow,
it absolutely tipped it down,
it covered up the entire town
and there was nowhere we could go.

They had to bring out the snow plough
to clear the roads where it had blown,
it just kept driving up and down,
but still the roads were full of snow.

Snow 2013-01-18The kids all had a day off though.
At least my neighbours didn’t frown,
when hit by snowballs kids had thrown,
or slithered on the ice below
where they trampled their virgin snow!

*********

Rondel Poem
1. Poem consists of 13 lines in 3 stanzas
2. Rhyme scheme: ABba/abBA/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains)
3. Usually 8 syllables per line 

New Year Resolutions 2013

by

0

MC900444925Okay, it’s New Year’s Day and it’s time for some resolutions,
but I’ve given up making them, I just need some solutions.
I have absolutely no more room in my house for more “stuff”,
and I’ve tried to downsize, but obviously not hard enough.
So this year, I’ll throw away something every single day,
never mind how much I had to pay, or how I’d like it to stay.
As I didn’t use it, play it, wear it or eat it last year,
if I threw it away tomorrow, I should not shed a tear.

Continue reading →

Choughs

by

0


Cornwall Sep 07 Lizard 017

Did you know that I am an auntie to some choughs?
They live here at Cornwall’s Lizard, on these bluffs.
Their breeding nests are well guarded both night and day,
just in case marauding egg hunters come that way.
It is good to know that they are back at nightfall
safely nesting, where they belong in old Cornwall.

St Ives – An Artist’s Paradise

by

0

 

How many diff’rent shades of blue can one get into a view?
‘An artist’s paradise’ they call it. That’s just so very true.
If I could paint a picture, then I would paint one now for you,
but I guess that my little photo here will just have to do.

St Ives is the place to be whenever you are feeling blue.
There are beaches to die for and ev’ry street affords a view.
There’s gift shops and galleries up little narrow alley ways
and perchance you will find a pleasant place to gawp, gasp and gaze.

Winter Woods

by

0

Owl in the Mist

A watery winter sun warmed the westward woods
but no birdsong burst from the bare branched birches.
Hawthorn hedges were hidden in the haze,
yet a feathered fiend had fixed his gaze.
Stiff, silent trees were standing stark;
wide eyes were watching, waiting.
Suddenly from his nest,
gracefully gliding
over frosty fields,
came the barn owl
seeking his
supper
feast.

Then
with a
sudden swoop,
and still no sound
he dived to the ground,
then soared high again,
caught in his claws his catch.
Heading back from whence he came,
silently sweeping through the sky,
flew with his famished family’s feast.
Yet still no whisper from the waiting woods,
the sun sank sadly ‘neath the skies in the west.
Silence, save for sounds of scrunching from the owl ‘s nest.

************

Inspired by photographing my friend’s watercolour painting from a picture in the RSPB magazine 

Nights in white satin

by

0

My face went a whiter shade of pale
when my man asked me over to stay
for passionate nights in white satin
because he was soon going away.

He was leaving for Sweden next week,
he would not be back for a long while
it would feel like forever autumn
before I would get to see his smile.

With my bright eyes full of wretched tears
that were falling halfway down my cheek,
I swallowed the big lump in my throat
before I could start to softly speak.

“Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will gladly lay me down with you.
We will frolic in your white satin
and I’ll prove my love for you is true.”

***********

C.W Exercise:-
Take a random list of five song titles and write a poem using them.
I’ve used some of my favourites:-
Whiter shade of pale
Bridge over troubled waters
Forever Autumn 
Bright eyes
Nights in white satin 


 



Downsizing

by

0

There they all are gathering dust,
so many memories of mine.
But let them go I really must.
I can do it, I will be fine.

I’ll have a go at the paper
that is piling up into hills.
It really will be a caper
to destroy those horrid old bills.

Then I will turn out my wardrobe,
clothes dating date back to eighty three.
They really have gone out of mode
and fitted a much smaller me.

Then there is my old bone china.
It suited me once I suppose,
but now I use some less finer,
I’ve gone off the old country rose.

We’ve been building and erecting,
while we let the family grow.
I’ve spent all my life collecting,
but now it’s time to let them go.

Those wasted years of spend, spend, spend!
I just cannot believe my eyes.
This gathering has all got to end.
It is time for me to downsize.




A birthday prayer for a departed friend

by

0

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
will shelter you well beneath its bough.
Wild cyclamen planted round its feet
are nodding to make your day complete.
Yellow roses in a simple spray
brought here to celebrate your birthday
by your friends, your nearest and dearest,
in the place you chose to take your rest.

In the spring, our snowdrops will push through
and English bluebells will cover you.
Wild anemones over your head
will wander above your resting bed.
We’ll come back then and scatter seeds
to flower freely amongst the weeds.
Not really weeds, just nature’s flowers
‘neath that memorial tree of ours.

May all these flowers bloom, as you did,
and brighten this woodland place amid
the thistles, grasses and the nettles
under this cherry tree’s pink petals.
And may you lie in peace and rest
beneath that tree you loved the best.
And may our flowers bloom and spread
over your green tranquil woodland bed.

 

 

 

With apologies to A E Houseman for stealing his first line


Fungus Invasion

by

0

This year has been damp and a good year for fungus,
some are small and pretty and some are humongous,
some crowd in circles around the base of our trees
and some decorate their trunks right up to their knees.

Some look quite cute, almost with friendly faces,
some dark and threatening, crowd in other places,
some look like phallic symbols, some like fairies’ hats,
some look like they should live with Dracular and bats.

Toadstools grow in circles but I have looked to see,
and there’s no sign that I can find of a fairy.
Mushrooms should be good this year, but I’m scared to try
any that I find in woods as I’m passing by.

We’ve been invaded this year with all sorts of spores,
they’re multiplying over the ground in their scores.
Ash trees have been struck with a fungus invasion,
spores from foreign woods have ruined England’s equation.

I feel like I’m living on another planet:
everywhere I go the grass is soggy and wet,
fungi cover the ground in woods everywhere
and I have to step all around them with great care.

I don’t want my dogs to catch a fungus disease,
just like the one that’s killing our native ash trees.

 

Ash tree die back report from the Telegraph

Dog disease caused by fungus


Heartbreak Recovery

by

0

Every night I lay awake ’til dawn,
I tried counting sheep right through ’til the morn.
Every day the tears fell down my cheeks,
every night the hours turned into weeks.

You told me good-bye that November week.
My heart froze at the words I heard you speak.
You told me that you had found another
and you wanted to live with your lover.

But every day my heart felt lighter.
and every day my soul felt brighter,
when I realised that you were no loss
and all you wanted was to be the boss.

Being independent, I can now choose
which dress to wear, and which pair of shoes;
what I should eat, and at what time of day,
and where I should go when I want to play.

No more do I have to watch sport on T.V.
cos I watch what I want now I am free.
I can watch soppy movies, and some soaps
and silly quiz programmes that boost our hopes.

I can lounge about in my dressing gown;
I can go with my girlfriends into town.
We can shop ’til we drop, and then some more;
we can window shop in every store.

I can chat on line with guys I might meet:
there’s plenty more who could sit in your seat.
Lots have already asked me to dinner.
I dine out each week, I’m on a winner!

So I’ve wiped my tears, and I’ll cry no more.
I’ll look forward to what I’ve got in store,
and you can go on with your humdrum life
with your new found family, and new wife!


A dog called Spot

by

0

 

A Dogs Trust dog called Spot

Our Mum has sponsored a dog called “Spot”
he’s not like us, but we think we like him a lot.
He’s seven and a half and it’s so very sad
that he was abandoned – because he was bad?

He lives in the Rehoming Centre in Ballymena
a bit far to visit but someone may be keener
to give him a home so he can live a nice life
and sit by the fire with a man and his wife.

The Dogs Trust charity will never put dogs down
– there may be one somewhere near to your town.
So we hope there’ll be a dog who might make you weep,
like our Spot, who now has Mum to pay for his keep.

We wish we could meet him and go out and play.
He’d love it here but wouldn’t be able to stay.
He’d be hard to handle and he’s so far away too,
and our Mum has her hands full already with us two.

Maybe you’d like to sponsor a dog as well. Perhaps you can’t have a dog of your own but would like to know that you are helping to keep another dog alive, who has been abandoned. If you would like to support this worthwhile cause, visit the Dogs Trust site»
To read more about Spot, visit his webpage»


Naughty Myschka

by

0

I shouldn't be up here but I don't careI’m so comfy up here I’m not going to move
until my mum comes along and gives me a shove.
Whenever she goes out of the room I’m up here
and I know she will shout, but I really don’t care!

I barked to say she was up on the chair,
as soon as you’d gone out she leapt up there.
But I’m lying here as good as can be
it’s Myschka who’s naughty this time, not me!

But I'm being a good girl for once

 


Frustrated Silver Surfer

by

0

I’m sitting at my desk again, trying hard not to cry,
waiting for my laptop to restart again so I
can find some amusement. And what’s the reason why?

’Cos I’m too old to go to work – no-one wants me any more,
so I’ve got to find some other things to fill my life, for sure,
’til God sends his disciples to come knocking on my door.

I’ve tried to read, but tiny printed words I cannot see.
I’ve walked my limping dogs, but that’s not far enough for me,
and my friends are all so busy, visiting their family.

I suppose I could read my pile of post, but that’s a chore.
Most of it is junk mail, or stuff I’ve had before.
I wonder why they still keep putting it through my door?

Continue reading →

IT is a four letter word

by

0

Quill pens, ledgers – bring them all back,
throw away computers on a disused railway track.
Bury them deep and plant over lots of trees,
or take them to the bottom of the deepest seas!

I don’t think we were this stressed fifty years ago.
except when we couldn’t get through the driving snow.
So much information, how can one take it in?
and do we need it for our happiness within?

I remember when we had our first computers –
they were bigger than a pile of invalid scooters!
There was an army of personnel pumping info in,
and a forest load of trees spewed out, which ended in the bin.

Continue reading →