Albert Ahearn Poems

There’s no hope for humanity
A half-wit would think otherwise.
Collective Christianity
With its many brethren allies
...

Autumn is not technically here
But it has arrived nonetheless
With brown crisp maple leaves and their
Imagined conspicuousness.
...

It was there when a serous sea
Spewed out its only occupant
Through a very narrow fleshy
Cave into a harsh world of light.
...

A poets quill lies on his desk
Atop a sheet of coffee-stained
Paper containing stylish script-
An Edwardian handwriting.
...

The Deciduous maple trees
With their temporary broad leaves
Fell in great numbers during the
Early, darkened, chilly morning.
...

The swimming hole is deserted
Except for an occasional
Brief stop for indigenous birds
on their way to the other shore.
...

Just beneath a grassy meadow
That one time was a battlefield
Lies the bones of two unknown men
Still clothed in their tattered fatigues
...

It amazes me how a dream
Is contrived from reality;
Fine-tuned to a subconscious scheme
played out nightly, surreally.
...

Idealists speak out all day
And wonder why the worlds this way;
They ask, why can’t we live in peace
Instead of being ill at ease;
...

I am up early this morning
anticipating the sunrise.
Too dark for any birds to sing
and I still have sand in my eyes
...