C Richard Miles
Brought up in the rustic backwoods of the Yorkshire Dales, I have been exiled, through self-infliction, in the metropolis of London for over half my life, living near the notorious Murder Mile.
I started writing poetry at the somewhat advanced age of 46 (Jan 2008 - to be precise) but have caught the bug, the above locations providing some inspiration for some of my poems, which ... more »
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C Richard Miles Poems
Watching the Cherry Blossom Dance by Sad...
Pink cherry blossom sifts like snow Along Rosebery Avenue, Where I am sitting on the bus Since some poor soul's mislaid their pass
Caterpillar, Caterpillar - A Children's ...
Caterpillar, caterpillar, crawl, crawl, crawl; Don’t fall off the garden wall. Caterpillar, caterpillar, eat, eat, eat; Grow so fat on your furry feet.
Zoo Fruit Feeding Time
At the zoo's fruit feeding time: An ape ate a grape, . A porcupine ate a lime, A skate ate a date,
Sunshot on the bus ride to Hebden Bridge
A bus-ride brought me Hebden Bridge again This time in summer, though the spiteful clouds Sheet-shrouding hilltops, half-heavy with rain This awful August, threatened they dare drown
We sometimes say we need a change, As a change is good as a rest But often fail to ponder If change is for the best.
A Faithful Friend
Since it was fashioned on the turner’s spinning lathe The old, ash walking-stick has wandered many miles On bracken banks, in frost-glazed fields, by heather moors And waited while I clambered on unsteady stiles.
A month to Christmas
A month to Christmas And commercialism Starts to festoon our streets With all its frippery.
A Cry For Burma (Written After The Cyclo...
Cry, for the countless citizens Of broken, battered Burma Who call on you to pity them, With resolutions firmer,
Waiting, At the shelter, Staring down the road, For the late village bus.
A Grand Morning
It’s a grand morning now, But it promises rain, So let’s make the most Of the hours that remain:
A Sense of Spring
Now let me taste the tones of spring, The tang of birdsong, as they sing In liquid lyrics; let me sink To sup that succulence, and drink.
Thoughts Of A Goldfish
I am a goldfish; I am swimming around this bowl. It is getting dizzy. A goldfish I am; It is getting dizzy. Swimming around this bowl I am. Am I a goldfish? I am swimming around this bowl. It is getting dizzy.
A Few Short Musings On Poets
How is it that we poets seem to be Mere transient custodians of poetry? For succinct words and phrases seem to fly, Like unannounced meteors from the sky,
A Palimpsest For Peace
Cross words cross across crossed wires. Cross-purposes cross reconciliation off the list As, crosswise, clockwise and counter-clockwise Fight for costly cross-border dominance.
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Watching the Cherry Blossom Dance by Sadler's Wells
Pink cherry blossom sifts like snow
Along Rosebery Avenue,
Where I am sitting on the bus
Since some poor soul's mislaid their pass
And so we wait awhile and halt
But, as I wait, I watch the waltz
Of cherry blossom in the gale
By Sadler's Wells, where dancers whirl;
Mankind and nature mixed for once
In this coincidental dance.