ASPIRINGPOETS.

Romance by Moonlight.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 21:29:10 GMT

Romance by moonlight
a flash in the pan,
I brought you twelve roses
but you wanted Spam.
I bought you a puppy
but it only got worms,
you called me a nuisance
and threw me downstairs.

On your birthday I gave you
a sheer satin dress
but you spread it with mustard
and ate it with cress.
At Christmas you bought me
an open-blade razor,
a pair of dark glasses
and a bright crimson blazer.

Sometimes I wonder...

Best Floral Hat.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 21:23:36 GMT

Putting on her best floral hat
the cat sat on the welcome mat
her whiskers twitching in the sunlight.
Would you care to take some toast and marmalade?
she asked the passing Dalai Lhama
but he was in a hurry
and only had time to beam at her
and compliment her exquisite china.

When I asked Robin williamson for a light
he thought I asked him for a fight
and promptly struck me on the jaw
and pushed me through a nearby door.
When I...

Variegated Mornings.

feeds@yuku.com (backstreetdreamer) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 06:45:00 GMT

Stretched across forever with the tautness of a drum
Elasticated images of wondrous beauty come,
Like expanded complications threaded through the eye of fate
They hurry to the edges, just in case they are too late,
And they look upon each other in such ancient glowing ways
Just as Suns had done so long ago, upon their weary days,
Yet they still bore every moment like a cross to Calvary
For they still remembered Jesus, and the dreams he used to see.
...

Lost Love.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 23:52:45 GMT

Standing watch at evening's edge
the heron guard's the moon's bright path
winding from the ancient rath
besides the silver river.

On the hill the thin starlight
glints and winks on phantom spears
the ghosts of men play dice with bones
a southern wind blows cold and sear.

In the reeds a mallard shifts
to still its clucking young
some long vanished scent insinuates itself
upon my senses and my tongue
- I hear the...

Genius Loci.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 21:10:23 GMT

Leaves fall and gyre around me
as I walk the spiralling path.
At the top of the Hill of Autumn
the old ruin is lichened and enigmatic,
even the crushed coke cans
and excrement in the corner
cannot detract too much from its
aura of ancient mystery,
a solitary rune accusing the sky
lest it forget its dark and bloody history.
All the earth is steeped in violence and blood
(at some point almost every field has been a battlefield)
but in...

Why do we see beauty in Nature?

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 21:05:41 GMT

Why do we see beauty in Nature
when it contains so much horror?
The amoeba, the ant, the bird,
the beast, the monkey, the man
- all are steeped in murder.
Even the most placid sea has its
dark and violent passions
whilst sun and rain can kill and maim.
In the heart of the brightest star
senseless fury rages,
blood and terror stain all
of history's pages.
The beauty of the spider's web
is but a cunning snare,
within...

Peace on earth.

feeds@yuku.com (backstreetdreamer) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 03:14:18 GMT

Doorbells ring and children sing
of peace on earth
or some such thing,
that echoes
sadly round a land
that can't
begin to
understand,
why Christmas wood
is stained
with blood
and evil
overshadows good,
and Islam
never understood
why men of peace
in lofty towers
would while
away
the morning hours,
to call the faithful
all to prayer
in holy shadows
gathered there,
and in...

The real masterpiece.

feeds@yuku.com (backstreetdreamer) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:40:45 GMT

Sometimes in a masterpiece, sheer beauty finds its way
A baby's smile, a painted sea, another lovely day,
But every now and then I feel a sense of something more
That makes the gallery feel drab behind its shadow shuttered door,
I can see into a painting as I feel the artist's flow
Through desert sun or moorland breeze, or Himalayan snow
And a smile portrays the innocence that I once used to feel
When breezes blew with breathless joy, and sunrises...

Roger Badger

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:59:33 GMT

Roger Badger was a disaster,
steeped in fleas above the knees
- they made him itch, they made him sneeze.
Whenever other animals saw him coming
they took to the trees.
It was rumoured that even his fleas had fleas.
Roger, however, was blissfully unaware
of his social stigma
and simply thought the world
was a fairly empty place
although every now and then he thought
he saw a distressed face
peering at him from the bushs.

...

Do you always climb your dream-hills alone? *

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:56:52 GMT

*(the title is taken from a line from
The Highlander's Last Song by George MacDonald)

Do you always climb your dream-hills alone?

No, long ago I climbed the Hill of Bees
in the company of angels
and lay in the golden afternoon sunlight
listening to glorious song.
Another time I climbed the Hill of Snow
and ten thousand snowflakes kept me company,
dancing in the winter air,
dissolving and dying on my skin,
laying down a...

Silver Sapphor.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:53:22 GMT

Silver Sapphor, cool and deep,
where twelve elfin maidens sleep
cocooned in fine white crystal strands
woven from sheer moonlit sands,
lightly fashioned with deft passion,
nurtured in an offhand manner
by an old dame versed in glamour
- fish to brush their long gold locks
and eat the algae from their smocks.

Monster Mere, cold and drear,
where I spend my listless days
scheming schemes and weary ways
to snatch a kiss from coral...

McWirter Blues.

feeds@yuku.com (Willowdown) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 22:51:05 GMT

I'm going down to the railway station
to meet a fish I met in Alberta.
I won't say she has big gills
but when I mentioned her to Duncan McWirter
he almost had a cardiac infarction.

I'm going down to the railway station
rambling on my mind.
I won't say she has lips like a piranha
but she treats me so unkind.
Her scales are armour-plated
her thoughts are unrelated
her fins titanium-lined...

I'm going down...

Sonnet for peace

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 05:57:28 GMT

One day we stand, at the gates of our very death,

Yet in God's sweet voice, we shall hear his tender...

Englands Snowy Hills

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 03:51:31 GMT

As Winter's night now slowly wanes,

From England's white covered plains

I gaze o'er deep snow's magic realms

Tall Pine trees and majestic Elms.

What's in a Name?

feeds@yuku.com (Wanda Fable Weaver) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 21:37:06 GMT
What's in a Name

When I was a child my parents would say
A good name is important in every way
It doesn't matter if the name is Smith or Jones
It's what people say about you on their phones

We grew up with a telephone party line
One short, one long, and hopefully some time
Ladies would listen carefully for a name
then they'd share what led to their fame

One had to carefully watch what you said
...

Liquid silken faces.

feeds@yuku.com (backstreetdreamer) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 13:55:39 GMT
Sparsely scattered in the darkness on a neon tethered sky
Drifting through the grains of evening where the currents never die
Were those liquid silken faces peeping through mist muslin nets
Drifting in and out of focus, from a night that never sets,
Their expressions held such sadness, such a hint of once again
Just like artists on the pavement drawing pictures in the rain,
Although a portrait can run liquid shadowed Tintoretto tears
Each of those sombre...

Nights in pink satin

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 06:01:46 GMT

Knights in pink flannel shall inherit the earth

Those knights in pink flannel; they know what it's worth

So don't ever leave them alone in a town

You know that pink flannel is sure to turn brown!

Who?

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 05:54:41 GMT

Who tells the sea to come and go

Informs the flowers how to...

Christian soldiers.

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 05:44:17 GMT

They pass this way but one more time

What then the reason or the rhyme?

Christmas night

feeds@yuku.com (MrLeslie) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 05:35:31 GMT

Hark the harsh North winds as they now blow