Jonathan ROBIN Poems

One only, if the truth be told,
could breathe life into ingot gold,
one only rhyme with harmony
from here until eternity,
...

From initial signs and signals, touching tendrils in the mind,
Is an image bright; inviting screens to fall.
One strains every intuition in attempt to reach behind
Nature’s surface state, seek soul song signs great, small,
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I will arise and go now, to set my spirit free
and a small space seek out, of light and movement made:
nine lives are seldom granted Man, Time flies, who’d spendthrift be
knows that the bill’s soon paid.
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Coincidence as catalyst
spins through and into karmic dance
evolving patterns; ambiance
calls bluff, wins all, masks fall, dismissed.
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One wonders if coincidence can claim,
to substitute itself for Fate, why pick
THAT flash point splash which lit love’s candle wick
or inflight insight felt, spelt feelings’ flame?
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Though out of sight need not be out of mind,
know chill hoarfrost in Winter thaws in Spring,
tide and time's flow spin slow, to loss resigned,
soul s[t]ealer must withstand the seasons' ring.
...

May lazy lakes and hazy afternoons
henceforth be province dedicate to one
whose inspiration conjures timeless tunes,
without whose presence poetry falls dumb.
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Garden which wild wilderness attested
Awash with colours now greets eye-in-dream.
Rich profusion prospers unprotested,
Dragonflies hover, honeybees here teem,
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Tender is her heart, whose light here tunes lines true,
E'er writ within free stylish skin, great find.
No name words scan, no need as man's $ains unwind.
Deeds flower here, deeds flower heard, dreamt by few,
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Inside,
Outside,
Coincide
...