Neil Crawford Poems

Why does everybody insist
on dressing like Existentialists? .

I demand that everyone else
be a non-conformist...like myself.
...

Two walking sticks,
two pairs of dark glasses,

two faces puffed up from
...

Come to the field Abel,
there's something you must see,
it's a jewel encrusted table,
sent by God, to me.
...

Down by the abandoned railway
we watched the fishermen

returned from a disappointing yesterday
...

Wake her gently for the day is long
and she deserves the softest call,
the lightest touch upon her brow
to draw her to the troubled world.
...

I heard him the clockless hours
when life's a brittle, plastic blue
and silence silver precious.
...

Gunshot shatters rural noon,
boomerang of birds erupts from cover,
hurtling towards heralded risk.
...

The Mersey gleams sunbeam white
just beyond our downpour

a slash of light against the grey
...

Singing is forbidden on the mountain of Apollo,
Parnassus has been still for ages past.

Or so the sign was written, an injunction we must follow
...

We watched the smoke grey heron rise above the frozen lake,
your son in law, his thoughts on war, walked his son
at the water's edge.
...