Ian Bowen Poems

When I was only
as high
as the small hedges
that divided farms,
...

'That Card' has now left the shelf.
The red roses have died, and now lie
under a thousand tons of waste.
...

Listen! It is night in the bedroom.
(of course toys, can come to life) ...

the soldier bangs his drum, and teddy
...

The green stains
of grass and moss
on the shoulders
of your white summer dress
...

Look out of your window and see for miles,
none of your mist and snow that piles
up the walls, covering the tiles, blanketing
our fairweather, sunshine smiles.
...

On the island of Kermadecs;
a member of the Macauley group,
my book has become a best seller;
when my brother (a sailor)
...

Once, it seemed like I’d walk forever
on those thick, plush carpets
that kept dark the cracked,
stained concrete floors
...

I would think
by the look on her face
we are approaching
the halfway point
...

On a whim,
I thought to visit
that house, where babies screamed
and my parents struggled with life.
...