ivor or ivor.e hogg Poems

War, whore
death and sex.
The great woebegone
Harlot of Babylon.
...

The boundaries which lie between
the worlds of fact and fantasy.
Remain in place although unseen
by unbelievers easily.
...

A fragrance carried on the breeze
which sets my saliva to flow.
Aroma guaranteed to please.
The finest fast food that I know.
...

Though it may seem I am obsessed.
The truth is that I am possessed
by an old writer long since dead.
Who now resides inside my head
...

Beneath the bridge the river flows
along the bank side alder grows.
There in the shadow of the trees
small creatures move about with ease.
...

The opalescent mists of dawn
within their luminosity.
Conceal a roe deer and her fawn
from idle curiosity.
...

The swamp lies still beneath the moon
Cicadas whirr incessantly
the bull frogs add bass to the tune.
Natures night time symphony.
...

In days of yore the dandies wore
embroidered clothes in colours gay.
Fine velvets, silks and coarse tussore.
The current fashions of the day.
...

The clock has struck the midnight hour
and silence now hangs heavily.
Sad recollections overpower
my every happy memory.
...

Neater meter?

I have to write a sonnet in free verse.
I must stick to Iambic pentameter.
...