Mark Boyle Poems

An adventure unfolds
deep in the wood.
A child walks a track
were a tiger once stood.
...

A trickle of sweet
Runs from my brow.
To the beat of the sun
Over head of my plow.
...

With fear in our hearts.
They sent us away.
To a land strange and new.
For the err of our ways.
...

In far away places,
way up in the sky.
A slither of light,
tears the sashcloth of night.
...

A child of shame
was born this day.
There was no one here,
to give a name.
...

A pen and quill,
soaked with ink.
Would touch a page,
so blank and cruel.
...

Within the darkened,
velvet sky.
Stars that fall,
burn and die.
...

I sing to you
of Silver Swans,
Kingdoms and Carillons.
Of loving bodies
...

Chattering voices all around.
Laughs of joke, of joy abound.
A single form, sits alone.
His thoughts as dark as the
...

I sit with pen,
and paper at ready.
Waiting for inspiration,
to come.
...