Ian Bowen Poems
A Poem About Nothing
I want to write a poem about 'nothing'
(not an easy thing to do) .
I want to describe the emptiness
that I've found since I lost you.
The crashing waves of ecstasy
will me missing from my verse.
There will no expletive adjectives
or headless-chicken curse.
The glorification of life's scenery
will be omitted from this page.
I will not mention the 'seven wonders'
or some ancient, historic age.
I will simpy be negative
and just scribble what comes out.
Leave you hopelessly pondering...
what this poem is all about
***dying Of Time***
Now in my grey-haired heart,
Flows the blood of seasons past.
Those pastoral beats, that once surged
In a sea of windmill leaves.
My haygold, harvest days, warmed
My cockles; all splashed in sun.