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» It's That Time Again
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» Facts of which you are unaware!
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» Glass Totems
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    Poet's Corner


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    Post by daffyd on Wed Aug 22, 2012 6:39 pm


    The shadow in my heart does lengthen every day
    As the sun in my life sinks beneath the hill.
    You have gone, I have a thousand words to say
    But they all come out, I love you darling, still.
    As I wander through the memories of our past
    I feel the warmth of you, so close, and at my side
    I thought our love was infinite and it would forever last
    Now it haunts me and I know not where to hide.

    For that love is now one sided
    As it roams in search of you
    I know not where to guide it
    Far less what you are going through.
    I just know my heart is aching
    Way down deep inside
    Your love was for the taking
    Now there's pain in every tear that I have cried.

    The shadow in my heart blocks out the light
    Cold fingers grip my soul, and chill my bone,
    Fond memories share with me my bed at night
    But my days are long, now that I am left alone.
    I seek the reassurance that only you my love can give
    That all is well, in where you now abide
    And with that reassurance, I will try my life to live
    And the pain that resides within me I shall hide.


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    Post by daffyd on Tue Aug 28, 2012 6:49 pm

    Whispers on the Wind

    When in a contemplative mood I often go for a quiet stroll in a small woodland near my home. As I walk I listen to the trees...... talking, and I often wonder just what message they are passing on through the rustling of their leaves.......

    Listen to the whispers
    that are borne upon the wind,
    Echoing the sighs of Heaven
    over a fate that's predestined.
    For the moving hand has written
    the world's fate amongst the stars,
    And the winds oft moan and repeat those words
    in their varied repertoires.

    Softly like a zephyr's kiss
    or loudly as in a gale,
    The wind informs the whispering grass
    who in turn, repeats the tale.
    The trees take up the story,
    Hear it rustling through the leaves?
    The truth is surely out there
    it's only man that disbelieves.....

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    Post by daffyd on Fri Sep 07, 2012 6:43 pm

    Where Broken Hearts are Healed

    I picture her in my despair
    That angelic face and auburn hair
    For around that form there is a light
    That will guide me through the darkest night.
    There is a comfort in her gentle smile
    That does ease my pain for a little while
    There's reassurance in those eyes
    That quell the panic, and pacifies.

    I picture her in my hours of need
    When the winter nights are long
    I pray, for her I shall succeed
    And tha my endeavour shall be strong.
    I seek her guidance through the power of thought
    In all that I say and do,
    I relax in her love, her warmth, support
    Albeit spiritual, it's true.

    I picture her here by my side
    A confidante in whom I confide,
    I ask directions through life's maze
    And listen closely to what she says.
    She bids me to share my earthly love
    To give of myself, and to rise above
    The prejudice and narrow minds
    To cast off the emotional chains that binds.

    I picture her as a spirit free
    An abstract form of peace
    The message that she conveys to me
    Is that in Death we find release.
    For in that world beyond our ken
    New concepts will be revealed
    It's a new beginning, not Amen
    It's where broken hearts are healed.


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    Post by Windwalker on Mon Sep 10, 2012 9:19 pm

    Very nice DaffyD.

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    Post by daffyd on Sat Sep 15, 2012 8:06 pm


    Tomorrow is a day that by definition, will never dawn
    Whilst yesterday was a day when tomorrow was its morn
    Tomorrow holds our future and yesterday our past,
    Why not settle for today and make the present last.

    Yesterday is history and has been so since time began
    Tomorrow is an abstract time in the mind of every man.
    Yesterday holds memories of the tomorrows we endured
    But today is the day when things get done, of that be re-assured.

    Yesterday is time you've spent learning how to live
    Tomorrow is so indeterminate, what else have you to give?
    Yesterday you gave it all to that dependent outstretched hand,
    Today is what you should settle for, and then life would be grand

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    Post by daffyd on Sat Sep 15, 2012 8:23 pm

    Her First Encounter

    The scene, please, you imagine,
    Make it as simple as can be.
    The place, where you prefer it,
    The players, he and she.
    Position, she was reclining,
    Staring at the ceiling up above.
    Music, it was piped
    The theme was harmony and love.

    She whispered, "Will it hurt much?"
    "Of course it won't" said he
    "It's a very simple process,
    Relax, rely on me."
    She said, "I'm rather frightened,
    I've never done this sort of thing before,
    I've been assured there's nothing like it,
    When it's over, will I be sore?"

    He started to convince her
    That it wouldn't hurt a bit,
    She finally consented
    And then wholly did submit.
    Three, four minutes passed by
    And neither spoke a word
    It was she that broke the silence,
    Her voice was rather blurred.

    "It is getting rather painful"
    The tears were in her eyes.
    "It is hurting quite a bit now,
    It must be quite a size."
    "Now calm yourself my dear" he said
    His face betrayed a grin.
    "Relax and let it open,
    And then I can get right in."

    He adjusted his position
    And approached her from behind,
    Probing, easing gently,
    The right spot for to find.
    His grip upon her tightened,
    He blocked the ceiling from her view,
    All that she could think of was
    His eyes are azure blue.

    "It's coming now" he said to her
    "I know" she thought with bliss
    "It is quite a funny feeling
    When you're lying back like this."
    A spasmodic jerk then shook her
    She gave a sudden shout
    The experience was over,
    Thank the Lord it's out.

    Having obliged the sweet young lady
    She was reminded of his fee
    As would any Dentist
    Unless your Dentist's free.


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    Post by daffyd on Tue Oct 09, 2012 6:25 pm

    A Halloween Howler..............

    Apocalypse...at the gates of his imagination

    He walked into the garden and gazed up into the sky
    His face displaying melancholy, a tear formed in his eye,
    And as the shadows lengthened the sun began to fade,
    He slowly shook his head and sighed as he thought of the plans he’d made.
    Lost in thought he stood there staring sightless, at the stars
    His mind carried him through galaxies, transported him to Mars.
    He rested on a rainbowed cloud that was full of morning dew,
    And saw twin moons lying lazily in a dreamy sky of blue.
    Way beyond the recumbent moons several horsemen he did espy
    Was this in fact the Apocalypse, was he about to die?
    Lightning flashed before him, illuminating all around,
    Followed by a growling thunder, such a dreadful, eerie, sound.

    Sepulchral monuments reared up in the now ebony shadowed sky,
    Like a granite forest beneath which, the dead are made to lie.
    Fragile barges drifted on through a swirling misty sea,
    Ferrying Death from all the worlds, to this galactic cemetery.
    For here souls are reincarnated, perchance reborn once more,
    Then ferried by these boatmen, according to ancient law,
    Back to atone for their sinful ways, so that they may reach a higher plain
    And for those of us who do not atone, we’re ferried back and forth again.

    Such was the vision shown to him of humanity and its fate,
    As he stood alone and terrified at his imagination’s gate.
    Had he atoned sufficiently or were his efforts of no avail,
    Should he offer up his soul today, dare he cross the veil?
    The moment came, then his chance was gone, he stood staring at the sky,
    The tear that had formed ran down his cheek, it was not his time to die.
    He slowly turned and walked back, the Horsemen circled overhead,
    Then they rode off into the darkness, searching for the Dead.


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    Post by daffyd on Thu Oct 11, 2012 6:09 pm

    A Halloween Visit

    A weakened sun slips from the sky

    Darkness rules in its place,

    The October moon, obscured by cloud

    Illuminates not, their face.

    For ghosts and ghouls set foot abroad

    On this eve of Halloween,

    Gathering souls to attend their ball

    Via the gates of the guillotine

    The dead are raised from their musty graves

    As the moon breaks through the cloud

    Disturbed at rest, these spectres moan

    And the banshee wail out loud.

    Pumpkin heads with eyes aflame

    Light up the darkness of the night

    Witches with their familiars, came

    Vampires to kiss, then bite!

    A chill wind whistled around my chair

    The fire did douse, then die

    The Devil emerged from a dank gray mist

    Fire raged in his eye.

    His hand flicked forth to grasp my arm

    I flinched and moved away,

    "The Halloween Ball was to have been here tonight,

    Shall you send my friends, away?"

    A strident, piercing, ringing tone

    Dispersed the phantoms of the night

    The door bell persisted, so I arose

    And once more walked into the light.

    I reached the door and threw it open wide

    To greet my callers and invite them in

    "Trick or treat?" the ghost horde cried

    Led by the Devil..... with an impish grin!


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    Post by Windwalker on Fri Oct 12, 2012 3:56 pm

    I like that DaffyD

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    Post by daffyd on Sun Oct 14, 2012 6:17 pm

    Gabriel's Horn

    It's a tale of the Supernatural

    That's the tale I wish to tell

    Where Ghouls most foul and Ghosties

    Came marching right out of Hell.

    Fiendish apparitions,

    That did stun and shock the mind,

    Did freeze the blood within the vein

    These forebears of Mankind.

    What was it that disturbed them?

    Why should they come forth this way?

    Bringing with them from THAT place

    The debt they must repay.

    Was it the Horn of Gabriel

    That had summoned those long dead?

    Was this the Day of Judgment

    Which all Ghosts and Ghoulies dread?

    Nay, 'tis but a legend that repeats itself

    Each millenium, or there about,

    When Ghost and Ghoulies hear the call

    And all Hell is emptied out!

    Beware of the Supernatural

    And the tales that are often told,

    For when the Horn of Gabriel sounds

    It summons both young and old.


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    Post by daffyd on Mon Nov 05, 2012 7:40 pm


    In those days of yore.....1492
    Columbus was looking for something to do
    He sought a patron to invest
    In a trip he'd planned.....ooh way out west
    Queen Isobella liked his persuasive style
    And backed his plan for a little while
    Come back home on these ships cheerie
    With the gold and silver that you promised me.

    He sailed forth with three gallant ships
    With the promise of gold issuing from his lips
    Five weeks into this epic quest
    Continually heading, west, Nor/west
    Despondency did beset his crew
    But Columbus knew just what to do
    The first man to call out, 'Land ahead!'
    Would be rewarded with silver, and royally fed.

    Rodrequez a simple Spanish sailor
    Normally shipped in a Norwegian whaler
    Was duty bound in the ship's crow's nest
    Yelled, 'Land ahoy' and pointed West
    'I claim the prize, I want all to know!'
    "No way I saw that land four hours ago!"
    'Twas Columbus who made this spurious claim
    " I claim the prize and so end this game!"

    Rodders fumed and cussed and spat
    And history has it long after that
    That Rodders unable to stand the strife
    Dejected, broken, took his own life.
    Whilst Columbus claimed immortality
    For discovering a place he did not see
    His story is legend as is his boast
    But he was haunted by Rodders ghost!


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    Post by daffyd on Sun Nov 11, 2012 7:09 pm

    A Soldier Died TodayLeast we forget
    Written by A Lawrence Vaincourt

    He was getting old and paunchy,
    and his hair was falling fast
    as he sat around the legion,
    telling stories of their past.

    Of war that he once fought in
    and the deeds that he had done.
    In his exploits with his buddies,
    they were heroes, everyone!

    And tho sometimes to his neighbours,
    his tales became a joke.
    All his buddies listened quietly,
    for they knew of where he spoke.

    But we'll hear his tales no longer,
    for ole' Bob has passed away,
    and the world's a little poorer
    for a soldier died today!

    He won't be mourned by many,
    just his children and his wife
    for he lived an ordinary,
    very quiet sort of life.

    He held a job and raised a family
    going quietly on his way.
    And the world won't note his passing,
    'tho a soldier died today!

    When politicians leave this earth,
    their bodies lie in state.
    While thousands note their passing
    and proclaim that they were great.

    Papers tell of their life story,
    from the time that they were young.
    But the passing of a soldier
    goes unnoticed and unsung.

    Is it the greatest contribution
    to the welfare of our land,
    some jerk who breaks his promise
    and con's his fellow man.,

    Or the ordinary fellow,
    who in times of war and strife,
    goes off to serve his country
    and offers up his life.

    The politicians stipend
    and the style in which he lives,
    are often disproportionate
    to the service that he gives.

    While the ordinary soldier
    who offered up his all.
    Is paid with a medal,
    and perhaps a pension, small.

    It is not the politicians
    with their compromise and ploys
    who won for us our freedom
    that our country now enjoys,

    Should you find yourself in danger,
    with your enemies at hand,
    would you really want some cop-out
    with his ever waffling stand?

    Of would you want a soldier,
    his home, his country, his kin.
    Just a common soldier
    who would fight until the end.

    He was just a common soldier
    and his ranks are growing thin.
    But his presence should remind us
    we may need his like again.

    For when countries are in conflict,
    we find the soldier's part
    is to clean up all the troubles
    that the politicians start.

    If we cannot do him honour
    while he's here to hear the praise,
    then at least let's give him homage
    at the ending of his days.

    Perhaps just a simple headline, that the paper might say.


    ( I make no apologies for the lack of pictures

    as this poem should stand alone)

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    Post by daffyd on Tue Dec 18, 2012 7:12 pm

    A Christmas Story

    I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,
    and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.
    The laundry wasn't finished and the dinner I had to fix,
    The dishwasher wouldn't work, and now it's all in bits
    And so with only minutes till my son got home from school,
    I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
    The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
    and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

    I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
    No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
    And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
    eight hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.
    A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
    Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
    They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
    their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

    Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,
    To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
    There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,
    They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MRE's.
    They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,
    They didn't need an ornament-- they lacked a Christmas Tree.
    They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,
    the only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition".

    I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,
    He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
    I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
    and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.
    There's nothing wrong, my little son, for safe we sleep tonight.
    Our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,
    to worry about the things in life that really mean nothing at all,
    instead of wondering each day if we will be the next to fall.

    He looked at me as children do and said it's always right,
    to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
    And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,
    to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote,
    "God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
    Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.
    The gift you give, you share with all, a present every day,
    You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay.

    Author unknown"

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    Post by daffyd on Thu Dec 20, 2012 7:54 pm

    Looking Back

    As the year draws to a close, I look back as I have done for many years and conclude that..............

    I remember the cheese of my childhood,
    and the bread that we cut with a knife,
    When the children helped with the housework,
    and the men went to work not the wife..

    The cheese never needed an ice chest,
    and the bread was so crusty and hot,
    The children were seldom unhappy
    and the wife was content with her lot.

    I remember the milk from the billy,
    with the yummy cream on the top,
    Our dinner came hot from the oven,
    and not from the fridge in the shop.

    The kids were a lot more contented,
    they didn't need money for kicks,
    Just a game with our mates in the paddock,
    and sometimes the Saturday flicks.

    I remember the shop on the corner,
    where a pen'orth of lollies was sold
    Do you think I'm a bit too nostalgic,
    or is it....I'm just getting old?

    I remember when the loo was the dunny,
    and the pan man came in the night,
    It wasn't the least bit funny
    going out the back with no light.

    The interesting items we perused,
    from the newspapers cut into squares,
    And hung on a peg in the outhouse,
    Just one hook and no room for the spares

    The clothes were boiled in the copper,
    with plenty of rich foamy suds
    But the ironing seemed never ending
    as Mum pressed everyone's duds

    I remember the slap on my backside,
    and the taste of soap if I swore
    Anorexia and diets weren't heard of
    and we hadn't much choice what we wore.

    Do you think that bruised our ego?
    or our initiative was destroyed
    We ate what was put on the table
    and I think life was better enjoyed.


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    Post by Windwalker on Thu Dec 20, 2012 8:54 pm

    What a great way to read memories, that was excellent.

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    Post by daffyd on Fri Dec 21, 2012 9:27 am

    I agree it is a great piece of work which I enjoyed reading. Not mine I'm afraid, it was that world renowned poet and authoress, Ann Onimous!

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    Post by daffyd on Sun Jan 06, 2013 7:27 pm


    Entering a New Year, twenty thirteen

    With forecasts of gloom like you've never seen

    But forecasts are but guesstomates

    Subject to fluctuations and often change

    If this was not the case life would indeed be strange

    Consultation of your stars are flights of fancy, true

    There is nothing written deep in stone that pertains to me or you

    Live each days as it presents itself

    Enjoy your surrounds and friends

    For who knows what is in store fore us, or when that enjoyment ends?


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    Post by Windwalker on Tue Jan 15, 2013 8:07 pm

    That was a great one DaffyD, I always enjoy your contributions.

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    Post by daffyd on Fri Jan 25, 2013 8:06 pm

    Aye, would you take a wee look at this......?

    Kenneth son of Alpin

    Circa 798 - 858 AD

    Born a Prince of Galloway, circa 798, Kenneth son of Alpin, was to form a Scottish state, through the unity of Celtic nations for the first time in that land. All the chiefs, theirs lords and mormaors, were to be ruled by one strong hand.

    Kenneth the Norseman slayer, both on land and sea, Kenneth the Dalriadan princling who sort Celtic unity, from the purple hills of Alba, down to Man in the Irish sea. Even Wales and Northern Ireland figured in this community.
    Kenneth organised a united front to chase the Norsemen from their shores. He trapped and burnt their Dragon ships, and onshore, drew their claws. LIA FAILL, the Stone of Destiny was saved by Kenneth mac, he hid it from raiding Norsemen, eventually to Scone he brought it back.
    Dalriada, Galloway and Alba, were united by his hand. Those kingdoms became SCOTIA, a new word for SCOTTISH LAND. The first Code of Laws for Scotland were defined by Kenneth mac, the Norse raiders feared the ARD RIGH and in the end did not come back.
    Kenneth reigned for sixteen years as High King of the new Scotland. Fighting off the Norsemen and any other raiding band. He died in 858 A.D. Whilst sailing through Bute Kyle and was buried with his ancestors on the bewitching Iona isle.


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    Post by daffyd on Fri Jan 25, 2013 8:30 pm


    My Little Cockney Sparrow

    I 'ad a little bird like that
    Stuffed an' stood up on a twig
    Housed in an upturned fish bowl
    Well, 'e wasn't very big.

    'ad a sparkle in 'is eye 'e did, but
    Ah' never 'eard him sing
    Ah called 'im Alfie, me ole cock sparrow
    Looked after 'im like a king.

    Ah carried 'im up the 'Apples & Pears
    When ah went up there tuh kip
    Placed 'im on the bedside table
    'cause mah room was such a tip.

    Ah 'eard a ringing on the 'Dog and Bone'
    An ah reached out, half asleep
    Knocked ole Alfie crashing tuh the floor
    He never let out a peep.

    Nah Alfie's upturned fish bowl
    Lies broken on the floor
    I'll never keep another bird
    No! Not me, no more!


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    Post by Windwalker on Wed Feb 06, 2013 2:59 pm

    Great Daffyd!

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    Post by daffyd on Mon Feb 11, 2013 7:28 pm


    They came and took my friend from
    me a tear rolled down my cheek,
    He lost his life at the age of three
    who's help will I know seek?
    His companionship and love was mine
    this devoted friend and aide
    He walked with me, be it wet or fine,
    we were veterans on parade.

    We would leave the bustle of the town
    and stroll down by the sea,
    He would guide me up the dunes and down,
    for I am blind you see.
    Our favourite spot was an old pine log
    lying on the shore,
    The wind, the sea, the sky, my dog,
    who could ask for anything more?

    I let him run and enjoy his bark
    as he played upon the sand
    And then he'd take me through the park
    and we'd listen to the band.
    Sam and I were soul mates true
    we were known all over town
    He knew by instinct just what to do
    and he never let me down.

    He'd rest his head upon my knee,
    I'd stroke his shaggy hair
    He devoted all his life to me
    and lifted my despair.
    He'd guide me through the shopping mall
    right to the very store,
    A companion, friend, my only pal,
    who could ask for anything more?

    Our walks were long and unconfined
    yet circuitous just the same
    For sand and frolics were on his mind,
    he must play his daily game.
    I'd slip his lead and off he'd run
    while I waited by the log
    He'd bark and dig and have his fun,
    he'd earned it, good old dog.

    Then came that fateful day in May
    we set out for our walk,
    My dog ran off and began to play
    whilst a friend and I did talk.
    There was a blast! A bark, a whine,
    then silenced reigned once more,
    My dog had found an old land mine
    a relic of the war.

    My sightless eyes just filled with tears
    as they led me from the shore,
    Our favourite spot now a place of fears
    I'd go back there no more.
    My darkness now imprisons me
    in a tomb of black despair,
    Sam was a friend who'd set me free,
    who else was there to care?

    Forgetful my hand reaches out
    to that damp patch on my knee,
    Sam's head's not there but without a doubt
    that's where it ought to be!
    They've laid a plaque in the shopping Mall
    outside our favourite store,
    To my companion, friend and only pal,
    who could ask for anything more?


    Posts : 842

    Poet's Corner - Page 5 Empty Re: Poet's Corner

    Post by Windwalker on Tue Feb 12, 2013 4:47 pm

    So sad, what a tribute though to a friend.

    Posts : 956

    Poet's Corner - Page 5 Empty Re: Poet's Corner

    Post by daffyd on Tue Feb 12, 2013 9:29 pm

    A Mirrored Thought

    Staring past my forlorn image
    I fell into my tear filled eyes,
    Into pools of mysticism,
    pools that hold and hypnotise.
    Hypnotic scenes confuse my mind,
    reflective thought then angers me,
    Heavenly eyes are burning brightly,
    yet being so blind I cannot see.

    Then dark brown eyes encompass me
    and warm me in a loving way
    Those soft pools of life's reflection,
    watching all I do and say.
    Those mirrors of remembrance
    those orbs of sheer delight
    That gaze with love upon me
    and watch over me at night.

    At times they are full of sorrow,
    expressing deep and lasting pain.
    Then in a trice they're twinkling,
    they are soft and brown again.
    I reach out into that mirrored thought
    for one more sweet caress
    Causing ripples in my reflections,
    loose the image, and find distress.

    Even now my eyes are brimming
    with tears that are tinged with salt
    Windmill thoughts run through my mind,
    at who's door lies the fault?
    I've traced our life together
    from the first day that we met
    I've relived each loving moment
    and yet and yet and yet,
    I cannot find a reason
    in any single day
    Why God in His infinite mercy
    Took my darling wife away.

    A sweatheart and a mother
    with a soul as pure as snow
    Was tortured and disfigured,
    it's the "WHY" I want to know.
    She was the reason for my being,
    the beacon of my day,
    Without her I am flotsam,
    with a lonely role to play.

    Returning to the mirror
    and the haggard image there
    I note how deep the lines are etched,
    the fast receding hair,
    The puffiness neath dark rimmed eyes,
    the pallor of the skin,
    Scars of battles fought and lost,
    a fight I could not win.

    Exhausted and despondent
    my body cries for sleep,
    I try and rest my tired frame,
    but can only lie and weep.
    For lonely is this empty house,
    and lonelier still my bed,
    Even though I lie wherein
    once lay my darling's head.

    Even now my eyes are brimming
    with tear that are tinged with salt
    Windmill thoughts run through my mind,
    at who's door lies the fault?


    Posts : 956

    Poet's Corner - Page 5 Empty Re: Poet's Corner

    Post by daffyd on Thu Feb 14, 2013 11:57 am

    There's a picture on my bedside table in a frame that's brown and gold
    I haven't had the picture long and the frame's not very old,

    But that picture and that picture frame, they mean the world to me,

    I keep it close, right by my bed, so that it's the last thing that I see

    And as I close my eyes to sleep with that image in my mind,

    There is a peace that comes and caresses me and helps me to unwind

    It's her quiet smile as I say goodnight that soothes my turmoiled brain

    Knowing that after a tranquil night, I'll see that smile again

    The comfort is in the knowing that those brown eyes will never close

    My bedside guardian angel, my own, sweet summer rose.

    I talk to her and tell her how my broken heart does pine,

    How the sun no longer warms me, nor for me do night stars shine,

    I tell her that the moon she loved has lost its silvery glow

    I remind her of our evening walks, for I know she loved them so.

    The world is cold without her, a grey and dismal place,

    Until I look at that photograph and see that sweet smile upon her face.

    For that smile, it brings back memories, it warms my ice bound heart,

    It prepares my mind for that hypnotic sleep where lovers never part.

    The comfort is in the knowing that those brown eyes will never close,

    My bedside guardian angel, my own, sweet summer rose.

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