Brian Joseph Dickenson Poems

I’m girding my loins for the war that’s begun
It won’t be a bloody war.
Just one in fun.
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Picking through old photographs.
Recalling ghosts of the past.
Remembering people and places,
But the pictures are all that will last.
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A screaming silence envelops the land,
Ghostly armies are marching.
Not even the sound of a muffled drum
To mark the soldiers passing.
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Clambering down from the cliffs above, down to the shore below.
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Missiles in the afternoon,
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As age takes its toll and our bodies fail.
The young sit around and listen to our tales,
Of days long past, when we were young,
And the world was ours with a song to be sung.
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Fingers poised above my keys,
Waiting for inspiration.
Brain not working, nothing coming.
Cerebral constipation.
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Beneath the oceans restless skin;
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We are bringing
Democracy’s torch.
Tho’ your land,
We may have to scorch.
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I love my cup of coffee in the morning.
Drinking it while droopy eyed and yawning
Connecting through the Internet
To Poemhunter, the best site yet.
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