Robert Melliard Poems

I didn't really choose to leave.
There was a plane to catch;
a family celebration to attend.
It was arranged.
...

I fling open wardrobe doors
and take the first shirt I see
and the first pair of trousers,
then I pull out a drawer
...

I've been cutting back a hedge for hours,
so now my pre-lunch drink seems well-deserved.

But with it comes, for no clear reason,
...

One day we took an old boat out,
a friend and I, with setbacks one expects
from non-seafaring men.
It took us hours to fit the outboard motor,
...

Grandpa made his lighters well.

He would take an old paper
(a broadsheet then)
...

Once I met a Muslim on a rocky shore.
His skin was brown and his hair dark;
but I was a Christian and pale.
...

Our 'kids' are adults now
and have their independent lives.

The Christmas tree is here
...

There's a cellar near Leon - a restaurant now;
a maze of tunnels, steps and corners,
hacked from stubborn rock and clay
by former, clearly tougher generations.
...

There are people (mostly men)
who seem to want to make life harsh.
They'll trick you, even rob you,
if you give them half a chance.
...

All that really matters when I write
is how to make each poem strong,
and try to put ideas across so well
that nothing, however hard or sharp,
...