Steven Robinson Poems

Time is fading and I am waiting,
you are beautIful and I am wanting.
The sun goes down and you are sleeping
I am lying in your arms.
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Sea Gull, she gal, he gal I watch the birds,
flitting and flying they as they dance, tease and flirt.

Lamppost and trees are their perch, they laugh at the motorists as they search and foray,
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I ponder who is more free, the Goat, the Pig or the Moo Cows and Gi-Gi's?
I think a Pig is really in trouble as bacon and eggs go down with not much trouble.
The goat is much safer, but due to the washing line caper is facing the barrel double.
The Moo Cow is quite safe as long as the milk is rich, they'll never be a beef sandwich.
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A tune plays in my mind, I slowly wake, and a habit gets me out of bed,
I stagger, wiping sleep form my eyes, a new day if forming.
My day depends on my feelings and the thoughts in my head,
I look forward to the day I have created from observing my morning.
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My breath is like a dragon's, I snort and cough and bellow out a mouth of steam, winters fairy tale is alive in my breath as I walk amidst winters cold grasp.

All about I see the domain of the crystal kingdom of icicles and frost, where are the boundaries of this land, nobody knows, the Sun is lost.
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There once was a Bureaucratic who was always on the automatic,
he would stamp and stamp the paper, he was not much fun.
Along came a maniac and challenged the clerk while he was at it,
and that was how the beating if the Bureaucratic was done.
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An ambassador of love and friendship you are,
an angel who brings light to all of the day.
I thanks you for being my mum and friend,
I thank you for giving me life and showing me the way.
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The icy wind howls fiercely and gnaws at my face like a rabid dog,
it's claws scratching my nose and the teeth ever so sharp pierce through my over coat and lashing out at me as if never been feed and wanting to feast on my cold bones. The dogs of winter call my name they want my heart of warmth to turn it inside out.

I stay the course and face their fury, they chase me, taunting me, nipping at my heals, It feels like I will never get to my journeys end, the numbness all but taking over. I cannot feel my fingers have they been chewed on? , it feels so!
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Her wind swept hair, partly covers her face, not masking her beauty.
Her high check bones glistening as the sun shines upon her face.
Her chest rising, catching breath as she sings across the cliffs.
Come to me my beloved, I call to thee, make haste across the sea.
...