Biography of Bill Cantrell
I am not a poet and don't claim to be one.2-5-14
Bill Cantrell Poems
The Treasure Of A Letter
Words carefully written, Will they stand the test of time? The secret is emotion, Not in the way words rhyme.
Davy Jones Locker
Love and tears, life and death Emotions on the oceans breath Sailors rest upon its sandy floor
The Greatest Poetry
Emotions must be gathered and clothed with words that fit. Then joining hands together, on paper they now sit.
Why are you angry, crimson moon? You look so out of place We finally see your darker side and yet, you never turned your face
A Poets Nightmare
All my poems are falling down And all the poets are dead Just before I hit the ground, I land upon my bed
Listen to the poetess sing while strumming the lines of blue Place your ear next to her heart and hear it beat for you
The Not So Cold Wind Blows
In the spring I arrive as a gentle breeze With the summer I have my moods In the autumn I am stripping naked the trees With the winter my heart is an empty room
A king must sell his kingdom For the blue within a maidens eyes Ironic that inside her heart, A peasant claims the prize
Roll Of The Dice
Poetess at the setting sun Poetess at the dawn The perfect poem is much too hot To put our finger on
Poetry’s kiss is bittersweet, Not for the unsteady soul To wake up in an abandoned bed Is such a heavy toll
State Of Affairs
All along the rainbows edge, Angels are placing their wings to dry Having softened the face of the killing storm, To leave her a clear blue sky
In your memory I am dwelling
as you watch time's candle burn.
Shadows of our past hang on the wall.
With the colors slowly fading,
you chase away the dust
until the day of our last kiss, you can't recall.
In your heartbeat, you have kept me warm,