Michael Shepherd Poems

Do only poets know
how every word is born,
comes winging from eternity,
to be tasted, savoured on the tongue
...

and when the cat had finished drinking
and he had watched that delicate pink tongue
lapping as carefully as any lady
and had wondered whether cats enjoy this patient method
...

My dearest one: tell me,
why you always return to Me?
...

Meltdown. A new kettle urgently
required for the gas stove. Men
love an excuse to wander around
the Aladdin’s cave of an ironmongers
...

hold the camera
as the rose's petals
fall
one by
...

Because I love you so,

sometimes it's loving someone;
sometimes it's loving anyone;
...

God, say those who learn of Him,
Is eager to be our teacher…

who would love to sit quietly beside us,
...

Wow!

Gr8 poem!
...

To be is to love.
To love is to be.

Roll these life sentences
...

Suppose that in the graveyards of our grief,
so still and silent, frozen by our tears,
those corpses, by some heavenly alchemy
pushed up, not only daisies, but new flowers
...