Damian Cranney

Veteran Poet - 1,030 Points (27/09/1949 / Liverpool)

Damian Cranney Poems

1. The Web 12/10/2012
2. Le Bois 12/10/2012
3. Bleak Fields 12/10/2012
4. Toms Mine 12/10/2012
5. Religions Extremes 12/10/2012
6. Eternal Love 12/10/2012
7. All The Way 12/10/2012
8. Jessica 12/10/2012
9. Belief 12/10/2012
10. Blue Anchor Bay At Dusk 12/10/2012
11. Ruminating 12/17/2012
12. Not So Barren 1/7/2013
13. The Question 5/27/2013
14. The Road Trod 5/31/2013
15. The Female Paradox. 6/12/2013
16. Lady Caroline Rothclare 10/3/2013
17. Stress Free 10/29/2013
18. Loves Needs 11/6/2013
19. Look For The Now 12/4/2013
20. Seaside Nostalgia 2/21/2014
21. For You 2/24/2014
22. Mad Jasper 12/10/2012
23. Loves Vicissitudes 12/10/2012
24. Lifes Road 12/10/2012
25. You Are My Love 6/30/2013
26. Loves Tragedy 3/18/2014
27. Scotland The Brave Uk 3/23/2014
28. The Souls Passage 4/14/2014
29. Prescribed Poetry 4/23/2014
30. Loves Rejuvenation 4/25/2014
31. Death 4/27/2014
32. Dangerous Seas 5/1/2014
33. Lying Not Standing 5/24/2014
34. Forgive You Your Sins 6/6/2014
35. An Independant Scotland (Or Beware The English) 6/15/2014
36. Friendship 6/17/2014
37. Two Lives Together 7/17/2014
38. Don'T Vacillate 7/18/2014
39. The Tallyman Of Life 8/7/2014
40. A Life In Shadow 9/13/2014
Best Poem of Damian Cranney

Go Fishing

There is no peace to equal that, of fishing by a Lake,
Or a stream, or river broad, or pond within a wood,
If worries you would cast away, take a fishing break,
Nature, is the balm that Soothes, the restless soul for good.

I remember, one idyllic, sunny day in spring,
Rising early, well before, dawns tentative groping light,
Arriving at the lake to hear, a far off robin, sing,
A ripple from a rising fish, all added to the sight,

To angle for your supper, is reward enough, it's true,
But that day, was a record day, eleven trout all told,
It fed ...

Read the full of Go Fishing

Le Bois

In meadows full of rolling green,
A far off wood completes the scene,
It stands atop the distant brow,
And fills my heart with warmth, somehow.

In England there will always be,
Vistas of uncertainty,
That then are turned to Majesty,
By those blessed with the gift of seeing,

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