Anthony Foster Poems

You big and lumbering hairy mate,
What is left that you haven’t chewed?
After wolfing whatever is placed on your plate,
And then you are grovelling for food.
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Dedicated to Ahmad Shiddiqi

Lines of energy pulse gently through the earth,
Golden rays of dawn lightly brush the ground,
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Life is about joy and passion,
Not about misery and gloom,
We lose many friends along the way,
So let’s celebrate the people we have known.
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The pale winter sun cast reflections from the wet winter grass,
When we walked down the slope past the brown runny bog,
Reflecting on the cries of men and knights running past,
Some falling wounded and dying in their desperate upward slog,
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We walked up a narrow lane with mossy walls, the hairy one and me,
And when we ventured onto the moor, we were feeling free,
Our footprints take us up the heather clad slope towards the granite Tor,
And a sharp intake of breath the view the view stretching out over the moor.
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It was misty and white that Christmas morning,
As we started our climb through the forest,
The dripping green moss scented pines pervading,
Our deepest senses as we walked.
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The stillness of the trees,
Bare and gaunt in the winter cold,
The air is still, the forest is quiet,
Waiting for the warmth of spring sunshine.
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The beat in my chest catches in my throat,
The unfairness assaults me, my mind‘s in a moat,
I want to smash something, to show how you are so wrong,
The moment is destroyed I want to go I don’t belong,
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I have travelled in a circle through France Portugal and Spain,
Perhaps one day in the future I will travel this route again,
A reason for memories no time for great regrets,
Tonight I find myself back home again happy it gets no better than this.
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Sandcastles on the Beach.

Sandcastles on the beach Ellen you are such a peach,
Underneath such a friendly sky,
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