Pete Crowther

Rookie (Hull, East Yorkshire, England)

Pete Crowther Poems

1. Joey Brown And The New Order 12/8/2005
2. Tb87618 8/22/2005
3. September Afternoon 10/25/2004
4. Hawthorn Blossom In The City 11/17/2004
5. Rooks 10/25/2004
6. Tidal Rhythms 11/17/2004
7. Time 11/17/2004
8. First Love 10/27/2004
9. The Millennium Yew 11/17/2004
10. Taking Shelter In A Summer Shower 11/17/2004
11. My Father 6/26/2005
12. Happy Valentine 11/17/2004
13. On Seeing Mars At Its Closest For 60,000 Years 11/17/2004
14. Beltane 5/1/2005
15. Do You Remember, Maria? (Trans. Count Aleksei Tolstoi) 10/27/2004
16. Hymn To The Sun 10/25/2004
17. Like Hens 11/17/2004
18. Superstition 11/17/2004
19. Sartori 10/25/2004
20. Leisler's Bat 10/25/2004
21. Miss Nellie's In The 'Fifties 11/17/2004
22. Moon Over The Humber 11/17/2004
23. The Once* 11/17/2004
24. The Tjet Or Knot Of Isis 11/17/2004
25. Sitting In My Garden 11/17/2004
26. Something In The Wind 3/15/2005
27. Meetings With Egyptian Gods: Nut 9/12/2005
28. My Neighbour Is A Farmer 2/12/2005
29. The Villanelle 11/17/2004
30. The Pipistrelle 11/18/2004
31. The Friendly Pig 11/15/2005
32. Rain 5/13/2007
33. Poor Brown Rat 11/17/2004
34. Travel Tips 3/23/2005
35. What Would It Be Like To Be A Bird? 8/7/2006
36. Hathor Of Dendera: A Litany 11/17/2004
37. The Apple Tree 10/25/2004
38. In The Rain (Trans. Of A.N. Maikov) 10/25/2004
39. The Grandfather I Never Knew 10/25/2004
40. The Grey-Eyed King (Trans. Of Anna Akhmatova) 11/17/2004
Best Poem of Pete Crowther

A Biker's Funeral

(In memory of Stephen (Reggie) Pearce
of Kilnsea,1980–2005)

The wind blows cold through the churchyard trees
and sadly tolls the passing bell
as mourners shuffle up the leaf-strewn
narrow path between the leaning stones.

He was just twenty-five, so young,
so full of life, and love of life
and laughter — killed outright one night
in a head-on crash on his motorbike.

From far and wide we’ve gathered here
to pay respect to our young friend.
I’ve never seen the church so full,
oh death, how can you be so cruel?

Who will forget this ...

Read the full of A Biker's Funeral

A Secret Whisper

I rarely go by bus but when I do
For safety’s sake I choose a seat well back.
Today the bus was crowded like a zoo,
My seat companion wore a plastic mac,
He looked quite foreign, dark, and rather nervous.
To break the ice I said “It’s very warm”,
He rolled his eyes and said that God would save us,
Began to rant and wildly wave his arm.
I looked around but no-one seemed to notice,

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