Sacha Hayes O'Grady
Biography of Sacha Hayes O'Grady
Sacha Hayes O'Grady Poems
The Spider Knits Its Silver Web
The spider knits its silver web, In hope to seize a falling star, While all the while the moon does ebb, Still gazing at it from afar.
Beneath The Dome Of Ancient Night
Beneath the dome of ancient night, When owls awake, and poets write, My lover sleeps, the sylvan child, With flowers that are strange and wild.
To A Friend
On Death's dark path, my friend has gone, That final road we fear to tread, Confined to dust, a light which shone How all too brief, for He is dead.
All Mortal Creatures Pass Away
All mortal creatures pass away Like shadows of a winter's day; Those ecstasies that we pursue Which crimson youth once thought it knew,
On The Loss Of A Loved One
Mere words alone cannot express The hurt which in me I do feel, For now I am companionless, A soul which Nature thought to steal
To A Homeless Person
I am a ghost among the crowd Between the living and the dead, As a shadow or passing cloud I drift without a home or bed.
Where have you gone. How did those years Turn now into so many tears. The small expressions of your face And eyes which leave no earthly trace.
The Clouds Amass
The clouds amass, forlorn and gray, To hide the sun, and bring us rain, Though I alone am locked away, With thoughts beguiling to my brain.
How Cruel This World In Which We Live
How cruel this in which we live, Where humans take more than they give: For it is now a corporate weed, On which our politicians feed,
Amid The Awful Multitude
Amid the awful multitude, Must I endure every day, A city without solitude, Like organisms on our way.
The Constellations Keep Their Time
The constellations keep their time Like some mad poet lost in rhyme, Whose thoughts from star to star do fly, Bright visions which can never die.
The Solitary Rose
As a solitary rose suspended On the curtain of night, she shines, lit By the impassioned flames of her keen heart, With luxurient wings vibrating;
The endless streets are filled with drones, Chattering on their mobile phones, Who talk, and yet have naught to say, Twittering all their lives away,
All earthly life is rearranged, While the heavens remain unchanged, Stars rise, though we ourselves expire, And to soil our souls retire.
To A Homeless Person
I am a ghost among the crowd
Between the living and the dead,
As a shadow or passing cloud
I drift without a home or bed.
The days are long, the night's are cold,
A cigarette's my only friend,
My face is worn, my marrow's old,
Resigned to wounds time cannot mend.