There was a young lady of Dutch extraction
To whom I felt an attraction.
She was a lover of art
And lived in my heart,
But to her I was a mere abstraction!
There Was A Young Lady Of Dutch Extraction
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Category Archives: creative writing
Two of my earlier poems
Below are 2 poems, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There” and “Two Voices”.
Both poems can be found in my collection of poetry, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There”, which was published in September 2015 and can be found HERE.
—
I am the girl who wasn’t there.
I did not sit upon that chair,
Playing provocatively with my hair.
I did not drink that expensive wine,
While gazing on your paintings fine.
I did not recline under the quilt so red,
Or moan with ecstasy in your bed.
If, by chance, an earring she should find,
Worry not; it is not mine.
—
You talk to me of lambs gambolling, of ramblers ambling, through fields green, beside the meandering stream.
You speak to me of verdant bowers, where lovers while away the hours, in love’s young dream.
I tell you of an urban street, where the gale buffets and people battle to retain their feet.
I impart to you the wind’s loan moan, as I wander home alone, in weather bleak.
There Was A Young Man Named Sleary
There was a young man named Sleary
Who advocated Marx’s theory.
When his ideas failed to come to fruition
He said “the people require more tuition,
For there is nothing wrong with the theory!”.
Three
Two is company but three
Is a crowd you see.
Yet for some three is the magic number.
Fear of judgement may encumber
The desire to fish
But still waters run deep
And the wish
To sleep
May overtake
And secret fires wake
There Was A Young Poet Named Zeff
There was a young poet named Zeff
Who wrote a poem about death.
The Grim Reaper heaved a great sigh
And said “I have long pondered on why
You poets are so obsessed with death”.
Reading makes you feel more empathy for others a new study finds
Posted without comment, http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-4952658/Reading-makes-feel-empathy-others.html
Party Girl
She was a party girl
Her head in a whirl
Of boys
And expensive toys.
She offered
“No strings fun”
In exchange for money proffered
By those who would
(if they only could)
outrun
The solemn tick tock
Of the ever present clock.
She was gone one day,
Who can say
Where?
Few care
To know.
The man of the world shrugs.
“Drugs.
Best not go
There.
She had naturally blonde hair
I think.
Will you take another drink?”
Balance
The chimes
Are out of tune with the times.
Which way will the pendulum swing?
And what will the future bring?
The tick tock
Of a balanced clock
Is long since gone
But the mechanism grinds on.
The clock may be repaired
And it’s owners spared
The eratic pendulum’s swing
That no balance does bring.
A steady chime
To tell the time
And the singing of a blackbird
Must once more be heard.
National Poetry Day celebrates local poets
To celebrate National Poetry Day, (which took place on 28 September), BBC local radio commissioned 12 poets from across England to write a poem incorporating a local word. To be frank some of these poems left me cold. I was, however rather taken with “Twittens”. To read the 12 poems please visit http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/4jjwQBspBn4NLRyB53d0dnJ/national-poetry-day-free-the-word.
A Dalliance with Poetry
Below are 2 poems which are taken from my collection of poetry and prose, “Dalliance”, which was published in 2014. The first poem is entitled “Fire” and the second “Midnight”.
—
“I have felt the fire’s power;
It kindles brightly and sinks within the hour.
I have watched the embers dying fast;
Looked into the future and gazed into the past.
I have raked the ashes cold, felt the bleakness in my soul”.
—
“Midnight, black as pitch.
No scheming demon, ghost, nor witch.
Only the darkness, which in the human heart resides, manifests itself in cruelty and pride”.
—
