john (called jack) wren Poems

It's a place where silence
has the loudest voice
from those who lie there
though not by choice
...

Sweetest of Isles I look at thee
nestled in yonder turbulent sea
shining like diamonds every day
guarding the entrance of the bay
...

Ribbon and tinsel, holly and berry
it's the festive season, time to make merry
there's cards and presents, snow on the ground
carols in church make an angelic sound.
...

Creeping merrily twix affable leaf
in search of her morning aperitif
this vision with the brightest of eye
smiles as she teases the Sun in the sky.
...

Wee sleek thrower of the soil
under the ground you're made to toil
on heaps of earth we see your stamp
on meadow and wood where're you camp
...

By the wayside.

She sets out her stall by the wayside
displaying her goods with glowing pride
...

They're always there, even
when its bleak and bare,
pecking away at this and that
foraging in their little grey hat.
...

Beside the sea you fill your roll
where the laughter of children
ignites your soul, and
your clustered heads warm and cosy
...

Most brazen of plants, from the bowels of time
resolved to leave your bounty of grime
how complacent men dread the birth
of this relentless scourge of the earth
...

When dark clouds come you close your eyes
and hide away from butterflies
who like you do not like rain, and sometimes
think life is a pain
...