Marilyn Shepperson

Rookie (4th September 1949 / Hounslow. Middx)

Marilyn Shepperson Poems

121. Lost 9/28/2006
122. Merlin 2/15/2007
123. The Soldier 10/20/2006
124. Humans And Nature 10/12/2006
125. What If? 4/21/2008
126. A Man? 3/4/2008
127. Lost Chance 12/3/2007
128. The Lazy Ghost 7/20/2007
129. In Praise Of Scotland 9/18/2006
130. The Lane 9/18/2006
131. What Happens? 9/18/2006
132. Old Eddie 9/19/2006
133. Pippin 9/21/2006
134. Adam Went Fishing 9/21/2006
135. The Deserted House 9/13/2006
136. In The Mood 9/4/2006
137. The Wolf Pack 8/23/2006
138. Scrooge 8/25/2006
139. Why 8/7/2006
140. The Dragon 6/13/2003
141. My Unearthly Lover 10/19/2011
142. Up At The Old Mansion 10/27/2006
143. My Muse Has Deserted Me 8/21/2006
144. The Puma 8/25/2006
145. The Skeleton 10/20/2006
146. I Had A Dream 10/20/2006
147. The Last Witch 11/3/2006
148. Dreams 1/12/2007
149. Alone 9/28/2006
150. Pansies 10/3/2006
151. An Answer 8/3/2006
152. Deep Delven 5/19/2003
153. The Unseen Companion 8/2/2006
154. The White Farmhouse 9/13/2006
155. My Message In A Bottle 9/12/2006
156. A Prayer To The West Wind 9/12/2006
157. The Gates Of Dawn 9/20/2006
158. Everyday Misery 9/18/2006
159. A Rose 9/25/2006
160. An Eagle 9/27/2006
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

February

Azure sky, streaked with cloud
Catkins and buds on every bough
Early flowers amass the fields
In a rainbows hue of colour
Is it really only February
With all this April weather
And yet the sun shines brightly
The grass is as green as in May
And even the wind, though northerly

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