Alan Walsh Poems

The sad impermanance of life,
Cuts into our being like a knife,
We gather awhile and defiantly smile,
Content to remain man and wife.
...

They know not the way of fleshly love,
Those gnostic ones who praise above,
Searing decisions of the heart averted,
Cloistered confines content the soul,
...

A blackbird looked at me square one day,
It lingered on in a peculiar way.

I whistled aloud and it fluttered it's wings,
We'd a brief understanding of natural things.
...

The crack of the corncrake breaks away the night amongst the half light.
The sun sits scheming afar, steadying, readying on a crimson cloud.
Gliding seagulls fawn upon the pale round water scrounging food.
...

At the end of my life shall I be
old.
Will there be strife as the years
unfold.
...

A headstone bearing a mother's love,
Can be found in a far flung cemetery grove.
It tells of the love for her soldier boy,
Whose life by man's hate did surly destroy.
...

I saw once a dead Starling laying on a dryed-up path,
It's one available eye so brittly staring up at,

It wasn't flying rapturously now under the warm sun,
...

I stand and pause my fingers firmly pressed,
Peering in I see her silhouette and listen,
One..two..three breaths to confirm to myself,
The promise of another night can be kept.
...