Damian Cranney Poems

The garrulous, Greek grape gatherers,
Joined joyously with jocund japes,
The olive pickers and Ostrich plucker's,
Celebrating the seasons success in song.
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Impassioned pleas seem not of merit,
When un-conjoined with sincere grace,
Scotland will always have, its culture to inherit,
Joined with britain, in brotherhood and race.
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In between The light and dark,
When thoughts roam free unhindered,
When solitary contemplation reaps,
Its own reward before one sleeps.
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I am grateful for having been granted,
This life, such as it may be,
The simplest of things still make me enchanted
But I know there’s much more, than the little I see.
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A tender touch upon your face,
A gentle caress while in bed you lie,
An arm, around you, in loving embrace,
And she in Languorous repose gives out a sigh.
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Let not adversity, douse the fire within,
Or undue critics deviate your way,
Your being has a natural propensity to win,
Challenge life, don't vacillate or sway.
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Age, will not render her less to me,
The memories like fruit are palpable and ripe,
The inner eye unravels all we see,
Separating the real from what is merely hype.
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I cannot bear to see you there,
Upon that chair in solitary recline.
It seems not fair, that I cannot share,
your company, for which I pine.
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I knew she was lying, when I saw her still in bed,
When she’s not lying, but standing, she nearly reaches my head,
But being horizontal, she barely comes up to my knees,
And that goes for everyone, in varying degrees.
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Go Save yourself from sinning,
The end is almost nigh,
But then again why bother?
The world is full of sin
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