Michael Shepherd Poems

Saints.
Like swans, gliding untroubled so it seems
to us, lazing on the river bank
of a Seurat summer Sunday afternoon,
...

In the stillness of the dawn,
in the stillness of the dusk,
then, my heart is most alive,
there, my soul is most at peace.
...

I was born poor uneducated trailer trash;
worked myself up by my own efforts;
now I'm rich; but still inside, feel poor...
...

Their apartment was ballroom-huge,
just off Park Avenue; they were
generous with their invitations;
...

I've got a cuddly teddy bear,
Jesus is his name.
I wondered what to call him;
and then the answer came:
...

We knew the history of the area, of course;
reckoning that with a Heritage Site
just over the hill
planning permits would be hard to get
...

How ardently, now, I wish for others
what I –alas too late – wish -
would have wished - for my own self,
and maybe, for my parents too:
...

OK, you don’t have to believe this;
but it’s worth thinking about.

Here’s the theory – it’s as beautifully
...

You
wrote a poem

I read it
...

Off the coast of California
where else
hornyhead turbot
and there's a name for a start
...