Barry Middleton Poems

how many have I seen
the waters slow and dark
that haunted secret paths
that time almost forgot
...

the autumn is not a season of roses
the spring is far way

the colors of the fall are beautiful
...

the days seem longer
the way they seemed
when I was just a child
...

seventy springs have passed away
I see a new magnolia bloom
the breeze that drifted into May
bids me to leave my shuttered room
...

I met the darkness as a child
it seemed to dwell among the trees
when night had fallen on the woods
to cast a chill upon the breeze
...

A drought is almost like despair,
but then there comes a flood.
The cycles of the patient earth,
run deep within our blood.
...

all boys and trees grow old and die
but certain things remain the same
the woods I wandered as a child
where haunted places laid a claim
...

a boy who would never grow old
decided the world of adults
was lonely and bitterly cold
and he could get better results
...

What might be my Rosebud?
I have no token of my youth,
no snow globe to remind me.
...

Mr. Black was always watching.
He watched us from his mossy home,
hidden within a hollow beech.
He lurked in mists beyond our reach.
...