Welcome to my latest poetry collection. I hope you will enjoy what I have to share with you this month.
To start on a high note, I was delighted when the poem below was selected as a runner up in a recent poetry competition organised by the over 50s digital community - Rest Less. When I read some of the other wonderful entries I was even more flattered that my poem had been chosen. Here is a link.
The inspiration behind this poem was my beautiful cat Cleopatra. However as a life long cat lover I believe the sentiments apply to all of our feline friends.
Feline
She winds then unwinds
With elegant ease,
Never drops her guard
Even in her sleep.
Her silky ears twitch,
In the blink of an eye,
Sweet sleep forgotten
She snaps into life.
Finely tuned senses,
The edge of attack,
With stealth and grace
She takes higher ground.
Through bristling fur
Her eyes are fixed
On things unseen by
A mere human being.
Within minutes she
Returns casually,
Leaps on my lap
Purring oh so softly,
My time starts now,
A game played by two,
But only she knows
And sets the rules.
I wrote the second poem for my Mum on her 84th birthday. As we both share a love of lavender there was never any question about what the subject of the poem would be.
Lavender Dreams
A soft fragrant cloud
Floats before my eyes,
Painted butterflies dance
In the palm of my hand.
All background noise
Slowly fades into
A sensory field
I tiptoe through.
Lavender dreams
Drenched in purple mist,
Dry petals of bliss
Like a butterfly's kiss.
My earliest memory is of my Dad taking me on his bicycle to see what I now know is the smallest window in England. I think I must have only been around three years old at the time. The window is in an area of Hull's old town and is often mistaken for a slit in the wall. If you would like to know more about the history of the window here is an interesting article.
I wrote the following poem on Father's Day this year in memory of my Dad.
The Smallest Window In The World
From the back seat of your bicycle
I hung on to your every word
When you told me one of your wonderful tales
About the smallest window in the world.
You carried me to the slit in the wall,
The picture you painted was clear,
I imagined two tiny figures
On the inside peeping at me.
You gave them names and voices,
Described the colour of their clothes,
I soaked up every detail
As I laughed at all their jokes.
And when it was time to go back home,
I did not want to leave them behind,
As you pedalled the story continued
In my illuminated mind.
Imagination was the greatest gift
You could have ever given to me,
Every time I think of that window
Your laughter echoes through my tears.
I never cease to feel privileged the odd time I have been lucky enough to get up close and personal with one of our feathered friends. I was inspired to write the next poem after one such occasion.
The Flutter
I saw you perched
Beside the leaves,
Your sharp eyes
Darting nervously.
I approached you
Slowly, tentatively,
Warm anticipation
Washed over me.
You were close enough
For me to see
Your mottled breast
And hooked brown beak.
Hardly moving a muscle
In my face
I felt priveleged
To be in your space.
I slowly extended
A trembling hand,
I must have taken
A step too far.
In the blink of an eye
You took to the sky,
One moment for ever
Engraved in my mind.
And to finish here is a selection of flower inspired poems.
Raindrops
Raindrops,
Like teardrops,
Tiny mirrors
Of the soul.
Raindrops,
So refreshing,
Life giving
Tender rose.
Raindrops,
Caressing,
Rejuvenating
Love.
Raindrops,
Dissolving
In the early
Morning sun.
Honeysuckle Parade
Acrobatic hedgerow dancers
Doing cartwheels on the leaves,
Extrovert feathered birds
Spread your wings and fly with me.
When I stare into your spokes
I see enticing fairground wheels,
Calypso beats and pink flamingos,
Exotic carnival of dreams.
The Carnation
Beauty preserved
In a frame of glass,
Ever present visions
Of memories past.
The night they met,
The touch of his hand,
Spotlights dancing,
The warmth of his smile.
He presented her
With a single white flower,
It became a symbol
Of who they were.
So many years
Have ebbed and flowed,
Too many pale sunsets
Watched alone.
Laughter mingles
With lonely tears
But there is one time
Her mind is still,
Through the silky scent
Of a fresh carnation,
She closes her eyes
As he pulls her to him.
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Thank you as always for taking the time to read my poetry. If you want to join me on Twitter I can be found at...
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