C Richard Miles Poems

Festoons of flagstone, tiered like wedding cake,
Crawl slowly up steep steps in Hebden Bridge,
Those terraces of solid, millstone grit
Toil tiredly up the hillsides to the ridge
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Shiny red shoes in Soho carry certain shady meanings
Understood by those who sadly stray that way.
Shiny red dress in Soho clearly means to welcome
Some attention from the punters as they pass.
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Light rain may bless our gardens with its welcome shower
Blest rain may still our worries, make us once more sure.
Still rain may soften edges of the city street.
Soft rain may cool our anger, make things once more straight,
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Did you not clock those clouds that, small and stray,
Have drifted, grey as ghosts, across my skies:
Those sombre spectres stealing sense away
And dimming all desire that ardour dies?
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I am the jolly jester, full of those jokes and tricks
That make you chuckle, grin and laugh at my antics;
I am the cheeky clown that takes the custard pie
That was meant for you, so troubles pass you by.
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You fish for feedback so you can improve;
You crave creative candid criticism of your oeuvre:
You seek the sage submissions they submit;
You ask for arguments against your wit.
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Once paladins on palanquins
Penned palimpsests on parchment skins
To chronicle mythology
And primitive cosmology
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The rainfall of inspiration
Drops on hills of hopefulness
Where springs of creativity
Create streams of realisation
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Old men there be, that did not feel fear:
In face of war, be it near or far,
Strained hearts grow strong, maimed minds turn to steel
To deal with loss, shrug it off with skill.
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I woke up yawning
Yesterday morning
And looked out,
Full of doubt,
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