Ernestine Northover

Sweet moment, stay with me,
and pray do not flee so soon,
Let me enjoy the bliss of that
first kiss beneath the moon.
...

With this heart I'll meet you,
With this heart I'll greet you,
Anywhere you choose.
...

How advanced they are, these children of the future,
Like small adults, within their tiny frames,
They grow up in a fast 'speed driven' culture,
Where 'learning pressures' change their kind of games,
...

I wake up in the morning and pull back the curtains, wide,
And look out through the window to view the world outside,
To see if the sky is blue or grey, sunny or with rain,
And see if the postman's on his way with letters that contain,
...

Speak not, to me, of mundane things,
The daily chores, which dull the mind,
But converse with a gentle voice that sings,
As if all the golden thoughts you find,
...

Kiss me and make it seem better,
Kiss me and quiet my heart,
I never once asked for a letter,
Stating you wanted to part.
...

A distant view
Can beckon you
To dream of unknown destinations
Where life has no more regulations
...

I had a thought, that if I got to Heaven
And knocked on the 'pearly gates' at seven,
St Peter would say ' Hold it there'
We haven't got a place to spare,
...

My universe, that's what you are,
My morning sun and my evening star,
The reason for every step I take,
And help with every move I make,
...

There he is, crossing the road,
very slowly, walking away from me.

I recognise his back, the way he walks,
...

He was a perfect gent,
Who having thus been lent,
This, Oh such precious key,
With which to view a property,
...

The wind whistles eerily, as the storm approaches,
it gradually encroaches, taking over
like some unscrupulous military machine,
giving way to no one,
...

Can you not see the sorrow, in someone's tearful eyes,
Or see the dread, in someone's weary frown.
Can you not see the fear, when someone's telling lies,
Or feel the sadness, in the laughter of a clown.
...

Thick the mist at early morning's dawn,
Cold the chill that enters by the door,
White the frost, that lies, across the lawn,
Each one piercing, striking to the core
...

Sitting in front of the fire, Auntie Flo's reciting a story,
it's one about her first Christmas as a newly wed,
the same one she broadcasts every year,
but no one is listening.
...

With branches coated topside white with snow.
And blue the shadows stretched along the ground.
Trees adding sharpness, a wintry view on show,
With dazzling, flickering sunshine, such can astound
...

A golden sphere is lifting up so slowly in the east,
The eye is looking towards it, and seeing such a feast,
Blazing with bands of colour, and giving a wondrous heat,
A view that to each observer, is something so complete.
...

The railings were old and rusty,
The door paint was faded and chipped,
The poor old house had seen better days,
The roof, made of slate, had now dipped.
...

After years of caring;

Comes the day, when the children depart,
for pastures new, for them a new start,
...

I was happy this morning, as I woke up in bed,
Then realized it was Monday and I faced the day with dread,
For somehow, whatever comes my way, my temper is displayed,
Just mentioning 'it's Monday', my nerves, they become frayed.
...