Gordon D Wilkinson Poems

Is there light I can see at the tunnels end?
Can this treatment be working?
Only time will tell
The sickness comes and goes
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Shadows dancing across the fires glow
Those we do not want to know

Shapeless flickering forms
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You see me hiding there
Way back in the recesses of your mind
Your thoughts do not call me forwards
Yet I am always there
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Frosts crab claws grab sharp, nipping toes
Daylight fading into dusk much earlier
The birth of a new autumn breaks its cocoon
Spreading glistening white crystals blanket
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Vivid reds, fiery yellows and blues
Greens sparkling in many different hues
Magically a canvas transforming
Trees, birds and flowers forming
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Another corridor of love ended
Blocked by an avalanche of deceit
All hopes buried so deep
Crushed under the weight
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Blow a kiss to your unknown love
Open wide a fickle hearts door
Watch for loves rhyming dove
As it hammers you with words to the floor
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Unfettered from loves chains
Cast off as the nights dirty clothing
Left there laying a heap
Quickly sprucing up without conviction
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All for seven shillings a week
Deep into the black pits bowels sent
Herded in, crushed tight cheek to cheek
Riding this old creaky cage, of ghouls
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Some show just a hint
As they twitch and die
Another fails to develop looking lost
Wondering if the effort is worth the conclusion
...