I have a friend who can pretend.
She’s just a piece of jewellery
A ploy she uses to defend
herself from closer scrutiny.
...
I see the moon, the moon sees me but she sees more than I can see.
I am earth bound I cannot fly but she serenely floats on high
and bathes world in silver light. Which can relieve the darkest night.
She grants to all men equally, sufficient light for them to see.
...
She sits and rocks contentedly.
She’s grateful for the evening breeze
which is perfumed by lilac trees
and cools the air considerably.
...
The cockerel crew at break of day.
Bid working men to make their way
to where they earned their honest crust
when hunger drives a man needs must.
...
A poet with an artist’s eye
can conjure words to set the scene.
Then with the words that he’ll supply
his reader feels as though he’s seen.
...
She walks in beauty innocent.
Too young as yet to understand
beauty can create discontent.
...
There is no bright sunshine today
it’s overcast the skies are grey.
A chill wind blows.
...
The soft sweet notes flow from the flute,
played by a busker old and gray
He chooses melodies to suit
The folks he knows will pass this way.
...
The village streets are dark and cold.
Most stay at home and watch T.V
Its not the place it used be
when coal was king in days of old.
...
Of what does happiness consist?
Merely a feeling of content
is it enough to just exist?
...