Marilyn Shepperson

Rookie (4th September 1949 / Hounslow. Middx)

Marilyn Shepperson Poems

121. Merlin 2/15/2007
122. Pippin 9/21/2006
123. In A Flower Shop 9/25/2006
124. Adam Went Fishing 9/21/2006
125. The Lane 9/18/2006
126. What Happens? 9/18/2006
127. Old Eddie 9/19/2006
128. The Deserted House 9/13/2006
129. Scrooge 8/25/2006
130. Why 8/7/2006
131. The Dragon 6/13/2003
132. In A Dungeon 10/4/2006
133. Up At The Old Mansion 10/27/2006
134. My Muse Has Deserted Me 8/21/2006
135. My Unearthly Lover 10/19/2011
136. The Puma 8/25/2006
137. The Skeleton 10/20/2006
138. Shadows 9/28/2006
139. The Wolf Pack 8/23/2006
140. An Answer 8/3/2006
141. Deep Delven 5/19/2003
142. The Unseen Companion 8/2/2006
143. The White Farmhouse 9/13/2006
144. My Message In A Bottle 9/12/2006
145. A Prayer To The West Wind 9/12/2006
146. In The Mood 9/4/2006
147. Everyday Misery 9/18/2006
148. In Praise Of Scotland 9/18/2006
149. The Gates Of Dawn 9/20/2006
150. A Rose 9/25/2006
151. Alone 9/28/2006
152. Lost 9/28/2006
153. An Eagle 9/27/2006
154. Dreams 1/12/2007
155. Humans And Nature 10/12/2006
156. I Long For You 2/15/2007
157. The Last Witch 11/3/2006
158. Tears On The Face Of A Man 10/5/2006
159. Lost Chance 12/3/2007
160. Twelve Little Daffodils 10/12/2006

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Best Poem of Marilyn Shepperson

Killing Fields

The fighting is over, the battle is won
Overhead the crows are gathering
The dead lay like a grisly carpet
Those not dead groan or cry and pray softly
Worst of all is the heart rending whimpering
Of men knowing they are about to die and are afraid
The victors celebrate in the great hall
With drink and food in plenty
Raising glasses to the glorious dead
What's glorious about it?
The losers, in chains, sit bemused
Trying to work out where they went wrong
Exhausted horses in the stables
Stand with heads hanging low
To tired to eat, barely able to ...

Read the full of Killing Fields

Deep Delven

Deep in the heart of a friendly, dark wood
Where fox and badger safely play
Where the tall pines court the clouds above
There lies Deep Delven

Along the river, where the wild iris grows
And the otter fishes without a care
Where willow weeps and aspen trembles
Is the hidden path to Deep Delven

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