Category: My Work
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Lost
Why do we experience loss? Something that was a part of me For a very long time, I grew accustomed to having it By my side. It was my companion, my solace, my comfort It was there when I needed it. And now it is gone And I am lost.
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All That I Have / What More?
I harbour a dark secret Arising in the most quiet of moments, A haunting vision of some future time When someone, perhaps a student Or an idler browsing the dusty stacks Of forgotten verses by forgotten authors And happens upon Palimpsest, Dust cover torn, images faded, pages dogeared. Well worn but little read. It is…
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Story Teller
Story Teller I Am A Storey Teller Seated round the smokey fire Faces clouded in curling wreaths Attentive eyes focused ears listening While I spin threads of myth and fancy For this is what I was meant to be Bred in my bones to tell the tales As told to me Entrusted to me To…
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At The Heart of the Matter
At The Heart Of The MatterWhat is poetry?That dreaded questionPosed by every English teacherTo his cowering first-year classWhat but the artful application of wordsLayer by layer and stone by stoneEach one selected with careShaped and smoothedAnd placed one upon anotherTo build the framework of an ideaAn image without substanceA voice without soundA central image that…
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Drawn To A Well
I am drawn to a well Of unknown secrets, Spectres rising in a rush of mist Drawn from dark places. Is it worth the trade-off When one surrenders the details Of a once significant event For the ghost of a feeling That once was, but is no more? Necessity and the passage of time Demand…
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The Siren’s Song
The Siren’s Song Sing seductive notes. Cast wide your nets and draw me in. Why do you never speak to me, But sing again and again sweet seduction’s call From sea-swept, spume-draped rocks? If you would speak or say the words To make intentions known. I might reply “I hear your call” And would reply. “I’m here” And fall into your desirous nets And…
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Drifting
Drifting In The Past Ragged pictures fade in and out, Galleon clouds with tattered sails Drift in and through Mist-shrouded images of things gone by, A dream with eyes wide open Or a dream within a dream. Persistent memories that will not fade, Not that I would wish them to, Appear before my eyes. I…
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Query
Query The sky above, the earth below, All well-ordered things where they belong. Is it too much to ask That they remain so? Why do I dare? Who am I trying to deceive With these poetic aspirations And lofty sights set on notions Of beauty, eloquence or talent? These pieces are, In fact, mere expositions,…
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They Dance
THEY DANCE They dance, they dance,Each turn and leap, a testament toThe dedication they invest and pain that they endure.Celtic heritage or simple love for the beauty and gloryThat springs from the heart and soul of youthAnd tribute to the past. They endure, they endure, Hours of repetition, days, months, years of practice, The hectoring shouts…
Palimpsest 