Ian Bowen Poems

There in the far corner
of her conservatory,
seated in a floral-patterned easy chair,
she now looks out onto her garden.
...

The sloping shoulders of a late sun
shrug in a distorted heat haze
as it adds more coal
to the back burner of a sunset.
...

Like a bright ambassador of morning
a new sun mops the dew
from the floor of the forests.
Fungi now grows
...

In a lonely alley
of a small town,
he had greeted
the woman in the woolen hat.
...

Scattered villages I view,
from this slope, where sheep roam
in their dirty fleeces of Winter.
A wind from the north, bites,
...

I’m so glad
looking back,
that I never came
from a rich family….
...

Mohammed Ali
That bastioan of the square ring
Done his floating butterfly thing
Wore the crown of boxings' king.
...