Miki Byrne

Rookie - 462 Points (29/04/51 / Birmingham UK)

Miki Byrne Poems

41. First Moments On Shell Island. 1/24/2016
42. Fixed Rings. 1/24/2016
43. Flooded Landscape. 1/24/2016
44. For Charity. 1/24/2016
45. For Granted. 1/24/2016
46. Forbidden. 1/24/2016
47. Forest Of Arden. 1/24/2016
48. Fourteen Signs. 1/24/2016
49. Freezing. 1/24/2016
50. Furniture Wish. 1/24/2016
51. Getting Better. 1/24/2016
52. Getting It Back. 1/24/2016
53. Giving. 1/24/2016
54. Gorse Hill. 1/24/2016
55. Advice On Juggling With Cheese. 12/5/2014
56. Age. 12/5/2014
57. Agnes Brown. A 21st Century Tale Of Woe. 12/5/2014
58. All Senses Sparked. 12/5/2014
59. An Adrenalin Moment. 12/5/2014
60. An Idea Escapes. 12/5/2014
61. An Ode To Bubblewrap. 12/8/2014
62. And I Am Changed. 12/8/2014
63. Ant In The Rockery. 12/8/2014
64. A Dream With Conscience. 12/4/2014
65. A Lipstick Called &Quot;Matador&Quot;. 12/4/2014
66. A Night At The Albion 12/5/2014
67. Assessing The Jade. 12/8/2014
68. Autumn Equinox By The Beach. 12/8/2014
69. Ballerina. 12/8/2014
70. Be Outside. 12/8/2014
71. Being Beautiful In Stratford Upon Avon. 12/8/2014
72. Black Eyes. 12/8/2014
73. A Small Act Of Defiance. 12/5/2014
74. A White Rose. 12/5/2014
75. Bottom Heavy. 12/8/2014
76. Bright Offerings 2/23/2015
77. The Young Woman. 2/23/2015
78. Cats And Owls. 2/23/2015
79. Chain Of Evidence 2/23/2015
80. Boundary Hedge 2/23/2015

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Best Poem of Miki Byrne

A Christmas Poem.

I see the lights a-glitter.
I hear the choir in song.
Children gaze, sparkly-eyed
For Christmas won't be long.

There will stand the presents
Around the Christmas tree
And cards along the mantel piece
From friends and family.

Then I think of Jesus,
All in a stable born
And all the things he gave to us
On that first Christmas morn.

The hope, the love, the charity.
The kindness shown to all.
The depth of Christianity
Sprung from a babe so small.

So now at this new Christmas,
I send a wish for peace.
For harmony throughout the...

Read the full of A Christmas Poem.

A Small Act Of Defiance.

The overalls were blue. Washed to faded shadows
like pieces of captured sky.
They fell into folds worn into their own memory.
The boots were hard. Toe-tecting bulbous humps
that crouched upon his feet-like pigs noses
with mud and diesel layered thick upon them.
Souvenirs of demolition sites. Stomped over
through unrelenting days of graft.
His shirt was sometimes frayed.

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