Denis Martindale Poems

My poetry stays on my mind, just like a faithful friend,
And so I write for all Mankind until my life must end,
Though I used to watch the telly, and check the papers, too,
Now I only stop for coffee, my word, I drank a few,
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There are times I write some verses
And wish I'd taken notes.
There are times God grants His mercies,
And these prove antidotes.
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Before I walked back home again to gently shut the door,
I had to stop the moment when a butterfly I saw,
And followed it to watch its wings, to see the patterns there,
As God through Nature shows me things if I but stop and stare.
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Now, don't be shy, we're all friends here,
Recite the words you wrote,
We'll have a laugh or shed a tear,
As everyone takes note.
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When as a dreamer, you asked this, Should I follow my dream?
This chance persists, too great to miss, think good thoughts not extreme,
For if a poet you would be, as millions have before,
Pick up your pen for poetry, for poetry galore.
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He told me, I can close my eyes, and yet still see her face!
That came to me as no surprise, as miracles take place.
He showed her photo then to me, and then I fell for her,
Her precious face is all I see, and all else is a blur.
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Stand back, gangway! I'm coming through,
With one more poem just for you!
I'm writing it, right now, in fact,
Sometimes that's how my thoughts react!
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I use my fingers and my thumbs,
At times when I must do my sums,
To calculate the best I can,
Although, of course, I'm not a fan.
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How heavy was the Jesus Cross, those men forced Christ to bear?
That fateful Cross despised because of pains Christ had to share,
That sapped His strength upon His path to Calvary and death,
To end up as His epitaph, Jesus of Nazareth?
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Some girls aren't known as heroines, as they must go to school,
Until their destiny begins and has to overrule,
And then things change, when truths get told, when secrets come to light,
When plans and schemes and dreams unfold each passing day and night.
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