Diana Rosser


Diana Rosser Poems

1. The Waterfall 1/14/2012
2. Do Not Leave Me 1/20/2012
3. Varanasi 1/26/2012
4. Walk With Me 1/27/2012
5. Thoughts Of You 2/2/2012
6. Flight 2/5/2012
7. Warmth 2/5/2012
8. Daylight And The Dark 2/13/2012
9. Inside Me Was The Stillness 2/16/2012
10. The Sky Was Blue 2/29/2012
11. Ryokan 2/29/2012
12. Grey 3/6/2012
13. An English Spring Ramble 3/16/2012
14. For You 3/27/2012
15. Today I'M Missing You 4/4/2012
16. Sunday 1/10/2012
17. Freedom 1/10/2012
18. Sun Loaded Juices 1/11/2012
19. Joy 1/13/2012
20. The Garden 1/13/2012
21. Gift 4/11/2012
22. Dream Catcher 5/1/2012
23. The Khanjar 7/6/2012
24. Canvas 7/6/2012
25. Repose 7/6/2012
26. Wamblee 7/6/2012
27. Happiness 7/6/2012
28. The Vision Quest 7/6/2012
29. I Am Here 7/6/2012
30. Relief 7/6/2012
31. The Day We Walked To Glastonbury 7/6/2012
32. Sunset Sky 7/6/2012
33. Lonesome Road 7/6/2012
34. Waiting For A Response 7/11/2012
35. The Walkway 7/15/2012
36. Living 8/24/2012
37. No Place To Hide 8/28/2012
38. Around The Corner 8/28/2012
39. The Old Tree Weeps 8/29/2012
40. Wandering 9/3/2012
Best Poem of Diana Rosser

I Went Walking

I went walking beneath an English sky,
around dormant fields churned winter brown.
The chill air on my face was crisp and dry.
The path I walked waved up and down
gentle undulating hills.

I followed an ancient bridle way
that crossed my track whilst wandering free
sometime around the middle of the day
as I emerged into greenery
covering the way ahead.

Lit it was, with dappled sunlight dancing
flickering golden stars on to the ground
“come follow” called this path enchanting
so I, with freedom at my heels found
myself out upon those hills.

Read the full of I Went Walking

The Garden

Weary and downcast, carrying the many heavy cares of the day I enter the garden.
Picking up the patient rake, with steady rhythm I gather the last of withered autumn into damp brown pools.
Green grass glistens and parts.
There is life’s new shoots poking through beneath the pear tree.
With easing breath and straightening limbs I bear the fallen leaves to the compost heap.
A gossamer spider’s web stretches, perfect and taut against the wooden frame.
The resident robin contemplates my mo

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