Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

On this your birthday...


I have watered a well spring
Till its continents floated by
And still I’ve had springs run dry
Leaving me nothing more to say

I have watered a well spring
And poured a little salt
Over my right shoulder
But still nothings fine my love.

The weeds are creeping sirens
Filled with dark magpies
Knocking wings like ravens
But still I have feelings my love.

That won’t go…
I have watered a well spring,
In a desert but still…
There is emptiness on this your birthday
That flower cacti flowers that won’t die away anymore.

Submitted: Saturday, April 13, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 04, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (On this your birthday... by Mark Heathcote )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Love Lures Life! - sonnet-, Manjeshwari P MYSORE
  2. Yamashita/Medina Standard, Richard Thripp
  3. drops of dew, binod bastola
  4. Hello, This Is Reez, Rimni chakravarty
  5. Wish You A Good Day, Rimni chakravarty
  6. Rockin' Socks and Paradox, Monk E. Biz
  7. Love dale, SALINI NAIR
  8. Ghost, Jhonas Lumanlan
  9. Eagerly I want to go with you, Gert Strydom
  10. Prayer and Women, Abdullah alHemaidy

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]