ANDREW BLAKEMORE Poems

As the morning sunlight brightly shone
Through the window of the corner shop,
It lit the rows of pop bottles
That stood upon the shelves.
...

The fallen tree lies still
Amongst the hush of autumn morn,
And dwells within a weeded tomb
Upon an amber bed,
...

As softly as the stream does flow
Down from the hills above,
The waters pass and yet I know
They shall not bring me love.
...

I am a mighty polar bear
Who never did do wrong,
I raised a family of my own
And once my will was strong,
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From Longwood I walk past the barges all moored there
Along the canal as I head on my way,
Thus leaving the noise from the traffic behind me
So glad to be part of this wonderful day.
...

There on the shelf lies the leather bound hymn book,
Once taken to chapel on each Sunday morn,
For so many years it had served a great purpose
But now it lies faded, so battered and worn.
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A wise old voice can speak no more
Of wasted lives all lost in war,
Who braved the trenches caked with mud
And battlefields all soaked with blood,
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A wise man once told me
That no matter how hard you try,
You can never be a friend of all.
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What sorrow has befallen me
No sun to light my day,
These clouds yield only misery
While joy has fled away,
...

A key turned slowly in the latch
The creaking hinges on the door,
Did groan as it was opened
By a frail and bony hand,
...