Category Poets

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,I’ll draw a sketch of thee,What kind of pencil shall I use?2B or not 2B?

The essence of true beautyLingers in all-encompassing rainbowsOf your joy and laughterYou hold my hand and smileAs we ensconce ourselves in our world of fireOur love is all there isI touch your faceYour gentleness astounds meI’m held in the honour…

Through every nook and every crannyThe wind blew in on poor old GrannyAround her knees, into each ear(And up her nose as well, I fear) All through the night the wind grew worseIt nearly made the vicar curseThe top had…

Go away girl, go away and let me pack my dreamsNow where did I put those yesteryears made up with broken seamsWhere shall I sweep the pieces my God they still look newThere’s a taxi waiting at the door but…

Drake is going west, ladsSo Tom is going EastBut tiny FredJust lies in bed,The lazy little beast.

There must be a wound!No one can be this hurt and not bleed.How could she injure me so? No marks No bruisesWorse!People say ‘My, you’re looking well’…..God help me! She’s mummified me— ALIVE!

Let us look at the River Thames.One of England’s watery gems.Oily brown, greasy, muddy.Looking foul, and smells of cruddy.The conservancey say their cleaning it,so why is it the colour of sh*t?

I cannot and I will not No, I cannot love you lessLike the flower to the butterflyThe corsage to the dressShe turns my love to dust my destination empty my beliefs scattered: Diaspora!Who set this course—and why?Now my wings beat—…

I’ve learned mine can’t be filled,only alchemized. Many timesit’s become a paragraph or a page.But usually I’ve hidden it,not knowing until too latehow enormous it grows in its dark.Or how obvious it getswhen I’ve donned, say, my goodcordovans and my…

Down the stream the swans all glide;It’s quite the cheapest way to ride.Their legs get wet,Their tummies wetter:I think after allThe bus is better