ivor or ivor.e hogg Poems

In days of yore men preened and posed like peacocks to impress
the haute monde with their quality: Put on a brave display,
although often a hollow sham. Which only served to say.
Fine feathers do not make the man, although they may express.
...

True love endures when passion dies.
This should not come as a surprise,
it is a lesson all must learn
at their own pace each in their turn.
...

Lost in the undecided light
which lies between the night and dawn.
When wisps of mist shine pearly white.
like shredded remnants of fine lawn
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Business women power dress.
Their sole intent is to impress
The world with their efficiency
and not their femininity.
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Mind control
Pantoum form
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The last post sounds and echoes round.
The neat and well kept burial ground.

Head stones in rows beneath the sky
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I always choose to take this way
This quiet path leads to my door,
Today as every other day.
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Fatigue sets in more quickly now.
As passing years catch up with you.
But circumstances will allow
A quick cat nap which can only do.
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I’m growing old disgracefully.
It is not eccentricity
but a decision I have made,
Though rules are meant to be obeyed
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Why should I love my enemy?
My enemy does not love me
Why should I turn the other cheek?
and give him cause to think I’m weak.
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