Tag Archives: Poem

The Lonely Words in the Woods.

The Lonely Words in the Woods.

I must go down to the words today,

the lonely words in the wood;

the ones that just aren’t used enough;

and not because

they are no good;

but, because they are so shy;

and no one goes to visit them,

and if someone does, they cry.

The words all hide

amongst the trees,

they keep themselves unspoken;

solitude is the thing they crave,

a silence likened to the grave,

or a morning quite unbroken.

I must just go,

to see they’re safe,

check they haven’t wilted;

for they had worth

in better days

before their use was stilted.

I must go down to the words today,

the lonely words in the wood.

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Upon How The Daffodil Became Ill

Upon How The Daffodil Became Ill

The Daffodil was feeling fine,

the day was cold,

but, the sun did shine.

It ventured out

a soul so bold

and into the air did shout:

“Look at me,

I’m fancy free!”

and smiled unto the world.

Then, it went in search of friends,

walked about, not quite to the ends of the Earth;

but down dale and up hill,

until…

atop a snow-covered mound –

a carpet of white

upon the ground –

it found a sense of liberty,

a peace of mind,

for one to be,

the highest peak the Daffodil,

of whom we speak,could find.

A sense of infinite well-being

was felt by the Daffodil,

until…

it decided to ski ‘down’ the hill.

Not a great skier,

no grace, no style,

the Daffodil was descending

at many a mile

per hour;

then things turned sour…

All control was lost,

and the final cost

was a bump on the head,

two broken legs,

and a stem that was twisted

and bitter.

The Daffodil felt shock

it was only 8 o’clock

and time was no friend to a flower.

From low unto high

to even lower by and by

in no more than

a quarter of an hour.

“What do ‘you’ do…?”

“What do you do…?”

What do you do

when you have no words

but somewhere to put them;

have words

but nowhere to put them;

don’t have words

and

nowhere to put them

even if you did have them?

Wait for the time

when you have words

and

somewhere to put them?

Maybe.

Wall Haiku

Wall Haiku

A wall went AWOL,

it couldn’t be found at all –

Trumpty just stood there.

My Valiant Attempt at A Sestina… Not!

My Valiant Attempt At A Sestina… Not!

To write a Sestina is no easy task

its structure’s not easy to use;

however, I’ll try one, and see how it goes,

it will be an experiment for me;

but, a lack of internal stanza rhymes

has already messed with my head.

I may do a Haiku instead.

Sestina, my word!

oh, so difficult you are,

that I do concede.

A Poem AboutTime.

A Poem AboutTime.

It’s about time

that I wrote

this poem.

Not that this poem

is aboutTime;

or about Tim,even.

In fact, is at is about

very little indeed –

and, so, I am just

wasting your Tim

and mine.

“A Poetry Competition!”

“A Poetry Competition!”

“A Poetry Competition?

There’s no Conpetition

like a Poetry Competition –

go find a rhyme

in your own sweet time

and enter it before

or after

the submission date.

Then, await the fate

of your words so fine…

but, be careful

to write every line

just right –

then you could win;

leastways, you might.”